


Even Then, Especially Now

by kuhlaine



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Infidelity, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, college!klaine, non-klaine infidelity, well actually friends to enemies to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:26:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 58,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24258862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuhlaine/pseuds/kuhlaine
Summary: Some would say it’s fate that brings Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson together during their freshman year at NYADA. They’re halves of a whole, peas in a pod, birds of a feather — two people who were destined to find one another. When a series of misunderstandings lead them to pursue relationships with other people, they’ll need more than fate to find their way back to one another.
Relationships: Adam Crawford/Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Comments: 283
Kudos: 193





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hoorah it's a brand spankin' new fic based VERY loosely on the movie Bride Wars! Many, many kudos to my amazing beta, Adri.
> 
> A GENERAL NOTE: For the sake of clarity - there was no COVID-19 breakout in the 2020 universe of this story.

_** September 2012 ** _

The New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts isn’t at all what Kurt had expected. New York City isn’t at all what he had expected. Being on his own is not at all what he had expected.

NYADA exceeds Kurt’s expectations. Within five minutes of stepping foot onto the Upper West Side campus on move-in day, he’s flanked by an acapella group serenading him as he and his dad lug four suitcases up three flights of stairs to his dorm room. There’s art, music, and dance around every corner — he can’t count how many rehearsals and public performances he stumbles upon during his first week of classes. NYADA may be cutthroat, molding some of the finest young performers from around the country into Oscar, Grammy, and (most importantly) Tony-winning powerhouses, but it’s also filled to the brim with theatre nerds — and it is absolute heaven.

Living in New York City is… interesting. Kurt had only visited the city once, over a year ago, for a show choir competition with his high school glee club during his junior year. The glee club returned home to Ohio with a first place trophy and Kurt came back with dreams of big city living. The city isn’t as romantic as he remembered — it’s dirtier, smellier, less polished and pristine. It’s loud, almost intimidatingly so, and bright, and sometimes feels like a lot to handle all at once. But he’s here, and that alone feels magical.

Being on his own for the first time in his life is the most challenging aspect of it all. Lima, Ohio is a town small enough that Kurt has known the same hundred or so kids for over a decade. He’s known his best friend, Mercedes, since pre-school, and can’t honestly remember the last time he encountered someone in Lima who he hadn’t at least heard about. His close knit group of friends in high school were wary when he announced with pink cheeks and teary eyes that he’d been accepted to his dream school in New York City. Lima isn’t the type of town that people leave, and those who do seldom do so for positive reasons. But he’s determined to succeed.

Being away from Lima is a breath of fresh air. Living in a city where he’s just another person, not an oddity or a punchline, is a luxury. But being away from Lima means being away from his family — something he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to. He calls his dad every day during that first week of school, breaking down on several of those calls and begging his dad to drive up and take him home. He misses his friends, he misses his dad, he misses his bedroom with his carefully organized walk-in closet. He even misses his doofus of a step-brother, Finn — who, as frustrating as he was to live with, always had a knack for finding the right thing to say to make him feel better. His dad would chuckle, assuring his son that everything would be okay, and that if he really wanted to come home by the end of his first semester, then they could talk about a transfer.

It takes about three weeks for Kurt to find some semblance of a routine. He doesn’t feel as intimidated by his peers anymore after he blows his Vocal Training 101 professor out of the water with his rendition of _Defying Gravity._ He’s made a tentative friend in Rachel Berry. She chased him down after said performance, insisting that they _must_ be friends. Elphaba is her dream role, and while she has some notes about his technique, she sees him as a potential ally and duet partner. She handed him a slip of paper with her phone number and a copy of her class schedule, asking that he send her the same info ASAP so that they can set up a time to practice scales together. Kurt’s not sure yet if he wants to take her up on her offer — he finds her over zealousness a little… _much_ — but there’s not exactly a line of people battling for his hand in friendship.

Kurt had originally hoped his roommate, Brody, could be a potential friend. He’s your classic aspiring filmmaker snob. He lines his half of their room with noir film posters. He listens to the Arctic Monkeys on vinyl every night and smokes out their window whenever Kurt’s off at class. Their first conversation was about his idea for a screenplay about a tortured wannabe film director who’s plagued by memories of his abused ex-girlfriend. But they get along strangely well — they bond over a love for French cinema and even binge the _Three Colours_ trilogy on the weekend. But Brody quickly finds his niche — NYADA’s film track is relatively new, most of his classes are with the same handful of people. He joins the experimental theatre collective, and by week two he’s already inviting his friends over to brainstorm ideas for an upcoming short film competition.

Most notably, Brody finds romance. He meets Quinn Fabray, an acting major from Connecticut, through the theatre collective. Kurt’s not surprised that Brody falls head over heels for her within a matter of days — she’s the type of old school beauty that takes center stage in all of Brody’s favorite films. He deems her his muse, and within a week she’s spending almost every afternoon in their dorm room. At first, Kurt wasn’t sure if Quinn reciprocated Brody’s feelings — she seems like the practical, no nonsense type. She often scolds Brody for his bad habits (smoking, mostly), and they have a unique knack for getting into hours long debates about the most mundane topics. But Kurt gets his answer on his way back from class on a Friday afternoon in the form of a sock covering their doorknob, their mutually agreed upon ‘do not disturb’ signal.

Kurt groans as he collapses against his door, sliding down until he’s on the ground. Class had been rough. His Contemporary Dance professor had completely torn apart his form. She had a reputation for going harder on her freshmen students, and he wasn’t even the first student to get picked apart that day, but it still stings to watch his classmates send him looks of pity for the remaining forty five minutes of class. He has an insane amount of homework for his Foundations of Drama class — so much so he’ll likely have to spend all weekend working on it. And, to top it all off, the care package his stepmom had sent him is now, officially, lost in the mail. Today _sucks._

He shouldn’t be too surprised about this turn of events — it’s the shit icing on top of the shit cake. All he can do now is get comfortable, and hope that Brody and Quinn will wrap it up sometime before midnight.

He realizes with yet another groan that his laptop, which he needs to work on his Drama paper, has been dead since his first class of the day and his charger is sitting on his bed, just a mere six feet away. He considers knocking on the door and asking if he can quickly grab his charger and spend the rest of the night working in the library, but he doesn’t want to seem ‘uncool’ or ‘lame’ this early into the school year. So, he plugs in his headphones, blasts the _Falsettos_ cast album, and starts to work on his paper in the Notes app. Maybe Brody or Quinn will take a bathroom or snack break.

But, of course, that’s wishful thinking, and so is the idea of being able to get any type of work done. Kurt is more easily distracted from writing on his phone than he would be on his laptop. He scrolls through Twitter and Instagram until his feed runs dry, he checks the BroadwayWorld boards twice, participates in two threads evaluating the longevity of _Bring It On: The Musical_ , and plays seven games of Sudoku. When his phone grows dim and informs him that he’s down to 10% battery, he’s only written three sentences.

Kurt tosses his phone aside and begins to weigh his options. He can still try knocking on the door and asking Brody if he can quickly grab both of his chargers — potentially ruining his amiable relationship with the person he has to live with for the next nine months. Or, he can do Brody this one solid and continue to sit in the hallway, doing nothing, for god knows how long.

He decides to give Brody until his phone is completely out of battery. He doesn’t want to run the risk of missing a call from his dad while his phone is dead. He doesn’t trust that his dad won’t enlist the Coast Guard to track him down if he doesn’t return the call, or at least shoot him a text. He’s rooting through his bag, looking for a book or sheet music or _anything_ to keep him occupied, when he notices someone on the opposite end of the hallway.

It seems impossible that he would’ve missed it — another person in almost the exact same position as him, crossed legged on the floor outside of a closed door. Except this person looks far more prepared than Kurt. He’s surrounded by a stack of notebooks and textbooks, his laptop propped up on his lap and hooked up to his charger. He looks ready for the long haul — nodding along to whatever he’s listening to through his headphones and typing away at top speed.

The boy doesn’t look familiar — but then again, it’s too early in the semester for anyone to _really_ look familiar. What Kurt instantly notices is the emblem on the boy’s royal blue sweatshirt — a bright yellow warbler in the center of an old fashioned coat of arms. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget that logo — having seen it plasted on every surface, notebook, and red-piped blazer the one time he visited Dalton Academy in Westerville during his sophomore year. He’d been sent out by the glee club to do some reconnaissance on their competition for Regionals, but had only made it about ten feet into the building before he was caught by the academic dean. In retrospect, trying to pass off a pair of shorts and thigh high boots as the uniform standard issue khakis wasn’t his brightest idea — but his legs looked _amazing._

Kurt bites his lip as he looks from the boy down the hall back down to his phone, which has dwindled down to 8%. He packs up his things with a sigh and makes his way down the hall — he figures he has nothing to lose.

It takes several tries to get the boy to notice him. His greetings fall on deaf ears, he can hear the music bleeding out of his headphones (Katy Perry, interestingly enough). He tries clearing his throat, and standing more directly in front of him, but it takes a tap on the shoulder for him to finally look up from his laptop and pull out his earbuds.

“Hey, sorry, if you’re looking for Sam he’s uh… busy right now,” the boy says, gesturing towards the door beside him.

“Oh, no, I was looking for you actually. I mean… not _looking_ for you, just wanted to talk to you,” Kurt stammers out, feeling incredibly flustered when he realizes how handsome the boy is up close.

The boy smiles, looking up at Kurt expectantly. “Talk to me about…?”

“Do you happen to have a phone charger I could borrow? My roommate has a girl over, and I’m not sure when I’m going to be allowed back in, and my phone’s about to die and if it does then my dad might kill me for not checking in with him. So… yeah,” Kurt says all in one breath. He doesn’t have to lay out all of the details of his situation to this total stranger, but he does — because this stranger makes him nervous, and he has a tendency to ramble when he’s nervous.

“Story of my life,” the boy replies with a roll of his eyes. He sets aside his laptop to dig through his backpack, pulling out a phone charger and handing it to Kurt with a smile.

Kurt lets out a breath of relief as he thanks him for the charger. He settles himself across from the boy, a polite distance away from where he’s camped out, not wanting to seem rude by taking his charger and running off to his end of the hallway. “You’re a lifesaver,” he praises as he plugs in his phone.

The boy shrugs, tapping his stuffed backpack with the tip of his pen. “Former boy scout. Always gotta be prepared,” he explains before reaching back into his bag and pulling out a ziplock bag of granola bars.

The boy extends the bag towards him, and Kurt is prepared to politely decline when his stomach decides to betray him with an unmistakable growl. He’d skipped breakfast that morning in favor of trying to snag a practice room to warm up before his dance class. Naturally, every room was booked until the evening, and by the time he’d done two laps around the floor to be sure that every room was taken he only had fifteen minutes to get across campus for class. He’d thought his lunch of a banana and a handful of cashews would be enough to hold him over until dinner, but now just the sight of food is enough to make his stomach ache.

“Seems like you might need something more substantial than a granola bar,” the boy teases as he takes the bag back from Kurt.

Kurt sighs as he takes a large bite of his granola bar. “If I eat any more overcooked dining hall pasta, I think I’ll explode.”

The boy laughs, nodding in agreement. NYADA may be an exemplary institution in a number of ways, but dining is definitely not their strong suit. Kurt wasn't too concerned when he read that NYADA was voted number one in the “Worst Campus Dining” category on College Confidential, but he quickly learned for himself that it was a well earned title. Brody had gone out on a limb and tried the questionable sushi from the student lounge last week — he’d spent the next two days clinging to the toilet bowl.

“I didn’t think it was possible for rice to get stale,” the boy muses, Kurt’s nose wrinkling in disgust.

“I’m almost to the point of investing in a year's worth of dollar ramen packs and just hoping my cholesterol doesn’t skyrocket.” Kurt finishes off his granola bar in two more wolfish bites.

“How very college student of you,” the boy teases. “I pretty much begged my mom to send me a care package with some of her cooking. She went a little overboard, but I think I can avoid the cafeteria for the rest of the month at least.”

Kurt lets his head fall back against the wall behind him, eyes sliding closed as he hums at the mere thought of a home cooked meal. “What I wouldn’t give for my stepmom’s lasagna right now,” he mumbles, the corners of his lips turning up into a smile. “And that’s saying a lot. She uses American cheese instead of mozzarella.”

The other boy looks at him warily. “No offense to your step-mom, but that sounds really gross.” He tries to remain serious, but can’t help cracking a smile.

Kurt shrugs. “It grows on you.” It really does. Kurt had once described Carole’s cooking as suburban white mom meets Gordon Ramsey’s Kitchen Nightmares, and yet here he is, craving her American cheese lasagna with a side of Texas Toast.

The boy throws his hands up in surrender, not pushing the topic any further. Kurt bites his lip as the conversation falters, the boy glancing back down at his laptop.

“I’m Kurt, by the way.” He takes the leap, offering out a hand for the boy to shake.

“Blaine,” the boy, Blaine, replies, taking Kurt’s hand with a smile.

The silence returns once they release each other’s hands, but it doesn’t feel as stifling as before. Blaine sets his laptop aside, turning to Kurt with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ve actually been keeping all of the food my mom sent down in the communal kitchen. Sam, my roommate, is kind of a human vacuum, so I wanted to keep my favorites out of our mini fridge. I was just about to head down and reheat some stuff for dinner, if you want to join?”

Kurt’s stomach answers for him, growling obnoxiously before he can even open his mouth.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Blaine chuckles.

Kurt smiles sheepishly, packing up his things and following Blaine down to the building’s communal kitchen. Blaine pulls out an impressive stack of foil wrapped packages from the kitchen freezer, all labelled in bright red Sharpie: PROPERTY OF BLAINE ANDERSON! PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH :)

“The smiley face is a nice touch,” Kurt praises, lifting up a surprisingly heavy foil lump.

“Kill ‘em with kindness,” Blaine replies with a wink before taking the dish from Kurt and heading over to the microwave.

Blaine introduces Kurt to a variety of dishes he’s never heard of. He starts off with pork adobo, his mom’s speciality. It takes some convincing for Kurt to try a bite — he’s wary of the idea of pork being frozen and shipped — but Blaine succeeds by informing him that it’s an old family recipe and that passing on it would be an insult to his ancestors. Kurt gives in with a knowing smile, and doesn’t regret it. Calling the dish delicious would be an understatement — it’s a testament to Mrs. Anderson’s cooking that the dish is still so flavorful even after being shipped from who knows where and heated up in a microwave that looks like it’s as old as the building.

Blaine roots through the cupboards in the kitchen for a pan and some oil to heat up the lumpia, explaining that microwaving them would damage the integrity of his favorite snack food. Kurt manages to find a dingy nonstick pan in one of the cupboards Blaine can’t reach, which gets the job done just fine. Kurt moans around his second bite — wholeheartedly agreeing with Blaine’s decision not to use the microwave.

They save the turon for dessert — Blaine drizzling a generous amount of chocolate syrup along the plate before serving it with a flourish.

“I think you’ve ruined me,” Kurt says around his first bite, relishing the sweet flavor of banana and chocolate. “How am I supposed to go back to eating cardboard pizza and cold vegetables for four more years when I know food like this exists.” He pouts between bites.

Blaine laughs as he finishes off his own plate. “I think I can be convinced to share occasionally. Plus my mom will probably send me twice as much food next time, once she finds out I made a friend through her cooking.”

Kurt swears that he can see a blush creep along Blaine’s cheeks, but shakes that thought off. No need to flatter himself into thinking he can make someone like Blaine blush. But the fact that Blaine already considers him a friend does make _him_ blush.

“If you’re using her cooking to make friends then I’m surprised you’re not the most popular freshman on campus.”

Blaine keeps his eyes on his plate, propping his chin up on his hand and setting down his fork. “I don’t usually reel people in with food. Most of the people I’ve met aren’t too fond of ‘exotic’ cuisines.” He uses air quotes for emphasis.

“Seriously?” Kurt asks, eyebrows quirked.

Blaine shrugs, finally looking up to meet Kurt’s eyes. “I grew up in a small town in Ohio — not exactly the most welcoming place for things that aren’t All American.”

Kurt bites back a sigh — he knows the feeling all too well. “You went to Dalton?” he asks, finally deciding to broach the topic that’s been on his mind since he first laid eyes on Blaine.

Blaine looks down at his sweatshirt and back up at Kurt, nodding. “Yeah. Are you from the area?”

“Lima,” Kurt answers with a look that makes his disdain for his hometown clear.

Blaine laughs softly, nodding as he points a finger at him. “I should’ve known as soon as you said your step mom uses American cheese in her lasagna.”

They both break, doubling over in laughter — it’s the hardest Kurt’s laughed since coming to New York. The despair he’d felt just an hour earlier seems like it was ages ago. It’s refreshing, having a conversation that doesn’t feel like an endless series of ice breakers. It’s easy to talk to Blaine. In many ways, he feels like someone Kurt’s already known — but he’s unlike the people he grew up with in so many ways. They chat about life in Ohio for a bit, Blaine slapping his hand down on the table when Kurt reveals that he’d been sent on a short-lived mission to spy on the Warblers.

“That was you?!” Blaine gasps as Kurt nods, looking far too pleased with this development. “Oh my gosh, we were so convinced that was a story our music director came up with to convince us to change our regionals setlist!”

“Nope. It was very real, and _very_ embarrassing. Is your dean always that intimidating?” Kurt shudders at the memory of the way the ancient man glared down at him over the curve of his strangely hooked nose.

“Pretty much. Oh man, I _have_ to tell the Warblers about this,” Blaine says, reaching for his phone and beginning to type away.

“I’m glad the most mortifying moment of my show choir career has brought you so much joy,” Kurt teases, tossing a balled up napkin at Blaine’s head.

“Well, your mortification led us to a regionals win, which led to our first and only national championship win, even if it was all downhill from there. So, you can consider yourself a Warblers legend. ”

The reassurance does little to ease the second hand embarrassment that overcomes Kurt whenever he thinks about the Dalton incident, but at least now he can rest easy knowing it wasn’t a totally fruitless endeavor, even if it did mean his own glee club lost out to the Warblers in the end.

Once they’ve cleaned up in the kitchen, they head back up to the third floor, fingers crossed that their roommates have finally sent their visitors home for the night. But no such luck — the sock is still dangling from Kurt’s doorknob, and the whiteboard on Blaine’s door still reads “NOT Han Solo tonight ;)”

“He thought it was subtle,” Blaine explains when Kurt shoots him a judgy look.

“It’s really not,” he replies.

They decide to head back down to the building's common spaces. They don’t have many options — neither of them wants to spend their Friday night cooped up in the library, and most of the usual campus hangouts have closed down for the weekend. The common room is surprisingly empty, so they decide to set up camp. Kurt spreads out along the couch, returning Blaine’s phone charger now that his phone is nearly fully charged. Blaine takes up the arm chair, setting his laptop down on the table between them. They chat about their first few weeks at NYADA for a few more minutes before Blaine proposes they watch a movie to help pass the time. Kurt readily agrees, inviting Blaine to sit beside him on the couch.

They curl up under the blanket Blaine has packed away in his backpack — Kurt’s starting to wonder if Blaine’s backpack was a gift from Mary Poppins — but remain a respectable amount of distance apart. Their knees don’t even touch. They scroll through Netflix, looking for something that’s the perfect balance of light, fun, and maybe just a bit of a tearjerker. They settle on _When Harry Met Sally._ They’ve both seen it before, but it’s been long enough for both of them that the details are a little fuzzy.

Blaine falls asleep about two thirds of the way into the movie. His head slowly lolls further and further to the side until it inevitably comes to rest on Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt does his best to keep a level head about it — they barely know each other, it doesn’t mean anything. But, this is the closest contact he’s ever had with another boy, and an especially cute boy at that. So he lets his stomach flutter, just a little bit. No harm done.

Kurt considers waking Blaine once the credits begin to roll, but gives him a few more minutes. He begrudgingly gives in once his shoulder begins to ache, gently shaking Blaine by the arm until he begins to wake. He yawns and rubs at his weary eyes, stiffening when he realizes how much closer to Kurt he’d become during his nap.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly, shifting back to his original spot on the couch — and that doesn’t sting at all, _it definitely doesn’t_ , Kurt tells himself.

“It’s alright. I’m more upset with you for missing the best part of the movie,” he teases, rotating his cramped shoulder now that he has it back to himself.

“Did they get together in the end?” Blaine asks around another yawn.

“They did.”

“Mm. I had a feeling,” Blaine says with a wink before standing up to stretch. It’s for the best, he can’t see the way Kurt’s cheeks flare up. “Think our roommates are feeling generous enough to welcome us back from exile?” He stretches his arms over his head, his hoodie riding up as he does so.

“We can only hope,” Kurt replies, doing his best to avoid looking at the newly exposed plain of Blaine’s torso.

Thankfully, their prayers are answered. Blaine’s whiteboard has been wiped clean and the sock is gone from Kurt’s doorknob. They say goodbye in the hallway, but not before exchanging numbers. They agree to meet up some other time, ideally not when they’re both locked out of their rooms, before parting with shy, excited smiles.

Kurt has the room to himself — Brody probably having gone out for dinner with Quinn — and cracks open a window, the room smells thoroughly debauched, before collapsing onto his bed. His dad has phenomenal timing, his phone going off mere seconds after his head hits his pillow.

“Hey dad,” Kurt answers, cradling the phone between his shoulder and his ear.

“Well you’re sounding mighty chipper,” his dad teases. “What’re you up to? Wild Friday night plans?”

Kurt shrugs, even if he knows his dad can’t see him. “If working on my Foundations of Drama paper is considered wild, then yes, very.”

“Ah college, can’t say I miss it,” Burt replies wistfully. “I won’t keep you long, just wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling. You didn’t sound too hot yesterday.”

Kurt bites his lip — yesterday had been a low point, and today had been on track to go even lower, but it had taken an unexpected turn for the better. “I’m doing okay. Really good, actually.”

“That’s great, bud,” Burt replies, obviously relieved. “You don’t need me to drive up there and pick you up?”

Kurt laughs, rolling his eyes at his own melodrama. “No, I think I want to stick around.”

* * *

_** September 2020 ** _

Kurt doesn’t think this day can get any better. Waking up to breakfast in bed isn’t something he’s not used to, but his boyfriend goes the extra mile with lemon blueberry pancakes, freshly squeezed orange juice, and a copy of the Sunday Chronicle on a Saturday morning.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” Kurt praised, before dragging him back to their bedroom for a morning surprise of his own.

He’d been told to keep his day free, which had been more of a pain that he’d thought. Cancelling on brunch with Rachel had ruffled her feathers and led to a thorough talking to about the importance of making time for one’s friends. But he’s fairly certain she’ll forgive him once he tells her that he spent his afternoon on a private tour of the New York Botanical Gardens, followed by dinner at Eleven Madison Park.

He’s been talking about wanting to take the financial hit and try a Michelin star restaurant for nearly a year now — but he never expected his first ever Michelin experience would be at a _three_ star restaurant. It’s undoubtedly the best meal he’s ever had, and the experience is incredible — from the moment they arrive to the moment they leave, he’s able to masquerade as a member of Manhattan’s highest society, dining on dishes so beautiful he almost feels guilty for eating them.

Needless to say, he’s floating on cloud nine as they make their way out of the restaurant, opting to take the long walk back to the subway, cutting through Madison Square Park. The conversation flows easily throughout the day — Kurt still has no idea why he’s being so pampered today of all days. Their anniversary isn’t for another three months, and both of their birthdays are months away. Every time he starts to question things, he’s silenced with a kiss.

The day has an overwhelming nostalgic feel to it. In between exploring the lush botanical gardens and bites of delicious food, they reminisce about the start of their relationship — an unexpected friendship.

“How could I have not fallen in love with this face at first sight?” Kurt teases, ruffling his boyfriend’s loose curls.

“You sure took your time telling me that,” he teases right back.

Kurt shrugs, he knows it’s true. They’d spent nearly a full year dodging around their mutual attraction, telling everyone around them that they were just friends when it was clear that they both wanted to be so much more than that.

“I just wanted to make sure you were as infatuated with me as I was with you,” Kurt reasons, squeezing their linked fingers.

“Fair enough. And I’ve always been sure about you, so sure in fact…” He trails off, releasing Kurt’s hand and taking a few steps back from him.

Kurt’s ready to start questioning him until his boyfriend gets down on one knee. “Oh my god,” Kurt murmurs, his jaw falling open as he’s presented with a black velvet box.

“Kurt Hummel, will you do me the honor of a lifetime and be my husband?” The black box pops open to reveal a stunning silver band.

“Y-yeah. I will,” Kurt manages to choke out, already overwhelmed by tears before he’s even accepted.

Those lingering around them applaud as the happy couple embrace, taking their sweet time exchanging steamier kisses than they usually would in public before they finally slide the ring onto Kurt’s finger.

“I love you so much,” Kurt whispers as he pulls Adam in for one last kiss, shivering at the cool press of the ring against the curve of Adam’s jaw.

It’s the best damn day ever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading & have a wonderful Wednesday :)

_** October 2012 ** _

Kurt’s opinions on college and New York City evolve drastically within just a week of meeting Blaine. Kurt’s own high school experience had nowhere near adequately prepared him for what was expected at an elite performing arts college. Blaine doesn’t have all that much more experience than Kurt does, but he has a wealth of tips and tricks that he’d picked up from former Warblers long before him, who graduated on to performing arts schools around the country. Plus, Blaine’s on-campus work study in the facilities department means he has first access when it comes to booking practice rooms — a fact that on its own should make him the most popular freshman by leaps and bounds.

Blaine’s hidden power isn’t kept hidden for much longer though. Rachel Berry manages to trick him into confessing that he has control over the practice room schedule, after he casually mentions his work study during their shared Monologuing class. She attempts to bribe him with promises of vegan baked goods and allyship until they graduate, but he doesn’t budge. After she spots Kurt splitting a blueberry scone with Blaine one morning before class, she tries asking him to plead her case, but he holds firm too. He doesn’t tell her that Blaine’s already risked his neck booking Kurt a practice room every Thursday morning for the remainder of the semester, for fear that she’ll turn green with envy. Then again, Elphaba _is_ her dream role after all.

At first, Kurt worries that he’ll cling too hard to Blaine. Finally having someone to talk to in person and hang out with after class without feeling like a burden is addictive. There are so many things Kurt wants to do with Blaine — all totally platonic, friend things of course. Thank you very much.

With Brody now focusing all of his attention on his budding relationship with Quinn, Kurt is mostly left to his own devices. Thankfully, it seems Blaine needs a friend just as much as Kurt does. He’s much closer to his roommate, Sam, than Kurt is to Brody — but even they have their differences.

Sam quickly earns a name for himself after ripping off his shirt in the middle of his audition for Tony in the mainstage production of _West Side Story._ It doesn’t land him the role, but it does land him a place in the ensemble, and a sizable female following. Sam, finally out from under his Christian mother’s watchful eye, takes full advantage of his sudden popularity by getting to know several of his admirers _very_ well. Though Sam often brings home visitors, he does his best to give Blaine as much notice as possible. Blaine doesn’t mind all that much — he’d rather have a promiscuous roommate than someone he can’t get along with. At least they can bond over a mutual love for all things sci-fi at the end of the day. Plus, having Kurt’s room as an occasional refuge eases the burden.

It doesn’t take long for Kurt and Blaine to finally convince themselves it’s time to venture beyond the confines of campus. Neither of them have class on Wednesday afternoon, so they decide to brave the madness of Times Square. It’s not as exciting as either of them expected — mostly just flashing billboards and an army of pushy Elmos and Elsas. They have a late lunch in Bryant Park, spread out on the one free patch of grass, making plans for future excursions in between bites of their overpriced salads. And just like that, the city doesn’t seem so intimidating anymore.

Their relationship grows and evolves with each passing week — though it takes a noticeable shift in an unexpected direction. They’re spread out in Blaine’s room — Blaine curled up on his bed with Kurt in the beanbag chair beside him. Kurt was supposed to be quizzing Blaine for his upcoming Music Skills exam, but they’ve gotten way off track. The conversation had started off on the topic of their favorite musicals, and had somehow morphed into a mucher deeper discussion about their experiences in high school.

When Blaine reveals that he transferred to Dalton after he was bullied relentlessly his freshman year at Westerville Public High for his sexuality, Kurt’s breath hitches. Blaine stiffens at Kurt’s reaction, crossing his arms defensively.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down, let’s—”

“I was, too,” Kurt says quickly, before Blaine can change the subject, not wanting him to think he’s uncomfortable talking about these kinds of things. He sets the notebook on his lap aside, sitting up as straight as he can from the confines of a beanbag chair.

“I was too. Bullied. For being gay,” he confesses quietly. “It… was a lot. And a lot of the time, it felt like no one was willing to listen.” He trails off, peeking up to gauge Blaine’s reaction. His expression has softened, his arms no longer crossed — no longer shielding himself.

“But hey, joke’s on them — because we’re here now, and we’re doing just fine.” Kurt holds up the smoothie he’d purchased on the way to Blaine’s room in a celebratory toast.

Blaine giggles, holding up his own smoothie and taking a long sip. “Better than fine I’d say.”

“Well, that’ll depend on whether you actually pass this exam or not. Because right now it looks like you’re going to tank,” Kurt teases, squealing when Blaine throws a pillow at him in retaliation.

Blaine passes his Music Skills exam with flying colors, and their friendship enters new, unexplored territory. In the days following their conversation in Blaine’s room, Kurt becomes hyper aware of every touch they exchange. In his defense, there are far more lingering touches than ever before — enough to warrant hypersensitivity, in his humble opinion. At first, he tries not to read into all of the ways Blaine’s hand brushes against his when they walk beside one another, or the way he’ll rest his head on Kurt’s shoulder when they’re settled together on the couch. Just because Blaine’s gay doesn’t mean that he’s interested in Kurt — NYADA must be packed to the gills with eligible bachelors. While none of said bachelors take any interest in him, he has no doubt in his mind that they’ll soon take an interest in Blaine.

And how could they not? Blaine is stunning, for one thing — and he’s funny, charming, smart, and kind too. He’s everything one could ever want wrapped up into a convenient 5’8” package. Kurt knows he’s lucky to have a friend like Blaine in a school that values rivalry over comradery — and he doesn’t want to jeopardize that.

But Blaine tests his patience — and he’s not even sure if it’s intentional or not.

It’s a cool Tuesday afternoon, Blaine doesn’t have any classes until the late afternoon, and Kurt’s morning class was cancelled. They’ve decided to christen the new TV Brody purchased for his and Kurt’s room with trashy reality shows. They’re sitting cross legged together on Kurt’s bed, splitting a bowl of slightly burnt popcorn, alternating between episodes of _Four Weddings_ and _Say Yes to the Dress_.

“Ugh. Why would anyone ever think having their reception in a hotel ballroom is groundbreaking?” Kurt laments as bride #3 drones on about her ‘unique’ winter themed wedding.

“Not even if it was at the Plaza?” Blaine teases, knowing fully well from Kurt’s earlier rant that the Plaza is one of Kurt’s many dream wedding venues.

Kurt pouts, tossing a kernel at Blaine’s head, scoffing when he deftly catches it in his mouth. “The Plaza is classy. The Sheraton in Omaha, Nebraska is not.”

“And how exactly will your wallet handle these high expectations?” Blaine tosses a kernel right back at Kurt, which winds up entangled in Kurt’s hair when he doesn’t even make an attempt to catch it.

“My incredibly handsome and extremely wealthy fiancé will foot the bill, obviously,” Kurt says with a snort.

“Ah, of course.” Blaine plucks the popcorn out of Kurt’s hair. “And is your incredibly handsome and extremely wealthy fiancé also an A-list Hollywood star?”

“Of course not,” Kurt states as though it’s obvious. “I could never get married to someone I have to compete with. He’ll be an acclaimed novelist. Or a brain surgeon. Or an astronaut,” he fantasizes with a whimsical wave of his hand.

“You’ll probably have a lot of lonely nights if you marry an astronaut,” Blaine points out.

“Mm, that makes it all the more romantic. He’ll be dreaming of me while he’s out amongst the stars,” he sings, pouting when Blaine bursts into a fit of giggles. “Can you please stop laughing at my future fiancé?” He shoves Blaine’s shoulder, which only makes him laugh even harder.

“I’m sorry, Kurt, but I don’t think your fiancé exists.” He pats Kurt’s knee sympathetically — but Kurt shifts away in protest.

“Is it too much to ask for a man who’s both fabulously wealthy and adores me with every fiber of his being?”

“I don’t think you’ll ever have any trouble finding men who worship the ground you walk on.” Kurt’s cheeks flare and his heart races as Blaine suddenly leans in. “But I don’t know about fabulously wealthy,” he says with a wink before leaning back.

Kurt huffs and shifts his attention back to the TV, if only to conceal his blush as best he can from Blaine’s view. “I could possibly be convinced to marry someone in a lower tax bracket. Possibly.”

“On what condition?” Blaine nudges him with his foot, now that Kurt’s facing away from him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Kurt regrets it the instant he says it. He’s always been careful not to cross that fine line between friendship and flirtation, and the one time he speaks without thinking he crosses that line by miles. He turns around, ready to take back what he said — but the way Blaine looks at him gives him pause. No one’s ever looked at him that way — he can’t quite parse what it is, the way Blaine’s golden eyes glimmer in the afternoon light, the way the apples of his cheeks have flushed the sweetest shade of pink.

“I’ll happily be your fifth choice fiancé, if we’re both still single when we’re 40 — if you’ll have me,” he says with a grin.

Kurt swears his heart is going to burst out of his chest and ruin the moment. He’s running on overdrive to try to come up with the perfect reply — witty, biting, and maybe just a tiny bit flirty. But that means being able to put together coherent thoughts, something he’s not very capable of right now. He doesn’t wind up crafting the perfect response, but he finds one that’ll do the trick just fine.

“I think I can live with that.” He smiles, extending his pinky out to Blaine. “And don’t be so hard on yourself, you’d be my third choice.”

Blaine chuckles as he wraps his pinky around Kurt’s, shaking them and pressing a wet smooch to their linked fingers for luck. “You really know how to make a guy feel special.”

* * *

_** September 2020 ** _

September 19th doesn’t start off as an unordinary day for Blaine. He wakes up earlier than he would’ve liked, awoken by a rough, wet tongue lapping at the side of his face.

“Oh c’mon, Feta,” Blaine protests as he sluggishly pushes his overeager daschund off of his chest.

But of course, Feta doesn’t let up, returning to Blaine’s side with renewed vigor, deciding to lick not just his cheek but every patch of his face his little tongue can reach. Blaine can hear a snicker as he lifts Feta high up into the air before setting him down on the ground.

“A little help would’ve been appreciated,” Blaine calls out to where he can see Sebastian hiding a laugh behind the rim of his coffee cup.

“It was too cute to intervene.” He ignores Blaine’s roll of the eyes and greets him with a kiss on the cheek Feta wasn’t able to get to, passing Blaine his usual morning mug of tea.

Besides the rude awakening, the day follows its usual routine. After a few sips of tea, Blaine trudges out into the living room to finish off whatever parts of the Saturday crossword Sebastian couldn’t do on his own. They go for a quick jog to the river and stop by the farmers market to pick up salmon and rosemary on their way back. After showering and changing, Sebastian walks Feta before sequestering himself in the guest room/office to finish up some work, while Blaine sets about folding laundry, tidying the bedroom, and prepping meals for the week.

It’s a Saturday like any other — calm, and what many of his friends may call boring, but that he would call productive. When he sets aside the carrot he was chopping to answer an incoming FaceTime call from Kurt, he doesn’t suspect a thing. He has no idea that Kurt’s about to pop his perfectly balanced little bubble with just two words.

“Blaine!” Kurt exclaims the minute his face takes up the screen. His cheeks are flushed pinker than usual and he looks out of breath. From what Blaine can see, he’s outside, probably in Manhattan — it’s not unlike Kurt to call him to chat in the middle of a walk or a jog, but a FaceTime call is an odd choice.

“Kurt!” Blaine replies with equal enthusiasm, propping up his phone on the kitchen counter so he can resume slicing carrots. “Didn’t we agree that calling me while you’re exercising is cheating?”

“I’m not exercising, I’m just excited!” he explains, bouncing on the tips of his toes while he talks.

“Okay… so, what’s got you this excited?”

Kurt lifts up his hand before Blaine can even finish, squealing as the silver band sparkles with each wave of his finger. “I’m engaged!”

“Oh…” Blaine stills, the knife in his hand stuck halfway through the carrot. His eyes widen and his brows shoot up to his airline as he comes to grips with this _very_ unexpected announcement. “That’s… wow.” He finally has the wherewithal to set the knife aside, his hands trembling as he does. “Congratulations, Kurt!” he adds quickly, realizing he should’ve done so earlier.

“Thank you!” Kurt beams with pride as he shifts the camera and pulls Adam into view. “Hey Blaine,” Adam greets with a wave.

Blaine waves back weakly, still too struck by Kurt’s announcement to do much else.

“We went on this amazing private tour of the Botanical Gardens up in the Bronx, and I thought that was the end of it, but then Adam said we were going to have to hurry back to get changed for dinner at Eleven Madison Park. Eleven Madison Park, Blaine!”

“Wow,” Blaine replies, but Kurt blows over him and continues on with his dramatic recount of the evening.

“It was so amazing, Blaine, you have to go there someday. I know you don’t really eat meat that often, but this was on an entirely different plane of culinary mastery. He could’ve proposed to me then and there and I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. But he waited until we were walking through the park back to the subway, and he had this cute speech — oh gosh I forget exactly what he said. But then he got down on one knee, and ta-da!” Kurt waves his ring finger in front of the camera yet again, finally taking in a deep gulp of air after telling the entire story in one breath.

“Kurt, that all sounds amazing!” Blaine replies once he’s sure Kurt is finished with his story. He watches as Adam wraps an arm around Kurt’s shoulders, guiding him as they continue walking together.

“It was perfect, and it was so unexpected too and just… magical,” he says with a sigh. “But don’t tell anyone yet, especially not Rachel, she’ll flip if she finds out I told you before I told her.”

Blaine knows he should be flattered, but a part of him can’t help but feel uneasy. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“I knew I could trust you. I’ve gotta go now, I want to tell my dad before we have to get on the subway, but I’ll call you tomorrow! We can go over your Best Man duties,” Kurt says with a wink before ending the call.

Blaine stammers and trips over his own words as his phone goes black before he can respond. He’s not surprised that Kurt wants him to be a part of his wedding, but he hadn’t actually _asked_ him if he wanted to be his Best Man. Of course, he would say yes if he did — he’ll always say yes to Kurt, he never wants to disappoint him. It’s just so much to take in all at once — Kurt is _engaged._ Kurt’s going to get married to Adam. And Blaine is going to be his Best Man.

“Am I going deaf in one ear or did Kurt just say that he’s engaged?”

Blaine jumps at the sound of Sebastian’s vote, nearly slicing his finger on the edge of the blade beside him. He pushes the cutting board aside as he nods. “He did. I’m the first person he told.”

Sebastian looks uneasy as he steps back into the living room, leaning against the counter across from Blaine with a quirked eyebrow. “Hasn’t he only been dating this guy for six months?”

Blaine shrugs — he doesn’t know many of the details surrounding Kurt’s relationship. It’s not something they’ve talked about all that much since Adam officially entered the picture during the Spring. “I think it’s been a little longer than that.”

“Huh,” Sebastian muses, stealing a sliced carrot off of the cutting board. “Mr. Afraid-of-Monogamy is engaged to the first guy that comes along. Interesting.”

“He’s not afraid of monogamy, Sebastian,” Blaine defends swiftly, giving Sebastian a warning look. They’ve had this conversation before, what feels like countless times.

Sebastian holds his hands up in surrender as he begins to back away from the counter. “I’m just calling it like I see it,” he calls out, walking off towards the bedroom.

Blaine sighs, running both of his hands through his hair as he wills away the headache he can already feel approaching. His phone chimes with a new message from Kurt.

_Who would’ve thought we’d be engaged at the same time!_

The text is accompanied by a photo of Kurt’s engagement ring, his hand outstretched to the sky, the Empire State Building looming in the background, like something out of a bridal magazine. He starts typing dozens of replies, but deletes them all before closing his phone and pushing it to the opposite side of the counter. He taps his fingers along the smooth marble countertop, watching the way his own engagement ring catches the light of the setting sun with each tap. Yeah, he thinks, who would’ve thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry if you had your wedding at the Sheraton in Omaha, Nebraska.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! I would strongly recommend that while reading this chapter (or any time that works for you!) you [stream this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bCgLa25fDHM&feature=emb_title) \- you can even keep it on mute in the background while you're reading/working. All of the ad revenue is donated to various organizations supporting the Black Lives Matter movement - it's a super simple way to make a contribution! All you have to do is make sure you don't have ad blocker on. Thank you so much :)

_** October 2012 ** _

It takes longer than he had originally anticipated, but Kurt finally starts to feel comfortable at NYADA after about a month. Blaine plays a major role in Kurt feeling like less of an outsider on campus, but he finds his way outside of his friendship with Blaine, too — they both do.

Blaine takes on a dramaturgy position with the Shakespearean Theatre Outreach Program (STOP, for short) — a group of mostly seniors, with a couple of underclassmen, who adapt classic works of theatre to perform at local elementary and middle schools. Kurt, much to his own surprise, lands a role in the mainstage second slot musical: _Chicago_. He’s perfectly happy with claiming his role in the ensemble — only to find out he’s been bumped up to the role of Mary Sunshine when the junior who was originally offered the role turns it down to fly to Los Angeles for a chemistry test for an ABC pilot.

Their friend groups grow, and eventually begin to converge. Blaine invites Kurt to join STOP’s bi-monthly karaoke night at the club president, Jesse’s, apartment. It’s their first time at an off-campus party, and they heed their parents’ warnings about unsupervised parties. They come up with a safe word in case either of them needs to leave for whatever reason — and promise to keep an eye on one another’s drinks whenever unattended. They agree not to leave without one another, and to avoid any and all possible drug use.

But the party is far from raucous and salacious. There’s a communal pitcher of sangria on the dining room table, but most of the party goers stick to soda or water. Kurt panics when he spots Jesse taking a deep inhale from a hidden object before passing it off to the club’s treasurer, Unique — only to relax once he realizes the ‘object’ is a nebulizer.

Though their worries are quickly quashed, Kurt and Blaine still stick close together throughout the night, waiting patiently for their turn at the mic. They decide to ease their mutual nerves about performing in front of so many upperclassmen by singing a duet together. Their performance of _I’ve Got You Babe_ is met with deafening applause, cheers, and whoops — and it is intoxicating in the best of ways.

They split up briefly after their performance — Blaine headed off to the bathroom and Kurt to the kitchen to refill their sodas. When they meet back up the living room minutes later, they’re both looking cautiously over their shoulders, nearly running into one another before gripping each other and yelping “Pineapple!” simultaneously.

“Wait — what happened? Why do you need to leave?” Blaine asks, finally turning his attention back to Kurt, who has abandoned both of their cups back in the kitchen.

“Jesse and I were talking in the kitchen, and I mentioned that I’m in the mainstage musical, and he sort of freaked out on me. Why didn’t you tell me STOP hates anything having to do with the mainstage?!” Kurt snaps, still looking over his shoulder at where Jesse is glaring at him, whispering something to Unique out of the corner of his mouth. “What happened to you?” Kurt asks once he turns his attention back to Blaine once Jesse has moved out of his line of vision.

“I think Rachel Berry just tried to hit on me.” Blaine gulps as he says it, he can barely believe it really happened.

“What?!” Kurt exclaims as Blaine shakes his head in shame.

“I don’t know! She just cornered me as I was coming out of the bathroom, and was asking me all of these… weird questions. Like what my vocal range was, and if I needed a new duet partner. And she asked me what my shoe size was? Is that flirting?!”

Kurt certainly isn’t an expert on what does and doesn’t count as flirting — he’s not even sure he’s ever flirted or been flirted with before. But they both look over to where Rachel lingers on the opposite side of the room, bouncing on her toes as she waves at Blaine, and it’s clear to both of them that she is _absolutely_ flirting.

“Alright, we’re out of here.” Kurt wastes no time looping his arm through Blaine’s and marching towards the door.

“Is it mean to leave her hanging? She can be nice… sometimes,” Blaine reasons, hesitating as Kurt unlocks the front door.

“Unless you want to be first in line for the role of Mr. Rachel Berry, you’ll leave her hanging.” Kurt doesn’t bother waiting for Blaine to reply, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the apartment before he can give Rachel any more hope than he already has.

Their second off campus party experience is far better. Kurt invites Blaine as his plus one to the first official _Chicago_ cast party. In retrospect, a party at the show’s 40 year old director’s apartment should have been concerning, but they’re all too excited to care. Sandy Ryerson’s apartment may be tiny, but he quells his casts’ concerns by passing around bottles of wine frequently and liberally throughout the night. Kurt and Blaine indulge in their first ever non-parentally supervised sips of alcohol, and it is _exhilarating._ Sure, they almost break their necks stumbling their way back to campus, Blaine nearly throws up twice, and Kurt winds up passing out on Blaine’s beanbag chair since he can’t find his keys. But still. Exhilarating.

Even settled into his niche at NYADA, Kurt still misses his friends from home. He’s still not very comfortable being 100% himself around anyone but Blaine, and even so he still hides a part of himself from Blaine — the part that’s dedicated to hopelessly pining for him. A part of him that grows bigger and bigger with each passing day.

Kurt had encouraged his friends to visit him long before he’d officially left for New York. They’d all made vague plans to visit one another over the summer before they went their separate ways. Mercedes didn’t move very far, just up to Columbus for her first year at Ohio State. Tina, the third member of their trio, is still stuck in Lima for one more year, finishing off her senior year at McKinley. Their plans become less vague once the school year begins — they swap schedules and go back and forth about dates until they finally settle on a plan.

Kurt all but insists that they both come to visit during NYADA’s homecoming weekend. The school doesn’t have a football team, or any competitive sports teams as far as Kurt knows — but that doesn’t mean their homecoming weekend isn’t as festive and celebratory as any other school. The fact that Kurt’s first ever NYADA homecoming is the same year Halloween falls on a Saturday just strengthens his case that it’ll be a weekend they won’t soon forget.

The girls can’t turn down the prospect of spending Halloween in the city, so it’s settled. Mercedes comes up with an excuse to duck out of her Friday afternoon class early, Tina manages to convince her parents that skipping one day of school won’t damage her GPA, and their plane tickets are officially booked.

Kurt barely pays attention during any of his Friday classes as he counts down the hours and minutes until Mercedes and Tina arrive. He has a miles-long list of things he wants to show them, places he wants to take them — plus, they still have to finish working on their respective Halloween costumes for the parade in the Village tomorrow night. Despite a gloomy, rainy week, the skies have opened up and the city has blossomed along with it. Even the performing arts gods grace him with the almighty gift of a weekend without any assignments, papers, or deadlines.

After class, Kurt holes up in a corner at his and Blaine’s usual coffeeshop, typing away at his weekend itinerary, ranking everything they need to get done in order of importance. Rushing a show is first, eating a hotdog from a cart is last — he still thinks street meat is questionable.

“Maybe I should’ve ordered you a decaf instead,” Blaine teases as he sets Kurt’s usual order in front of him before sliding into the seat across from him.

“You didn’t have to buy me coffee,” Kurt protests with a pout.

“You got me last week when I forgot my wallet, I owe you.” Blaine pushes the cup towards Kurt insistently.

Kurt doesn’t bother putting up a fight, the money’s already been spent and he really doesn’t need Blaine to hit him with his signature puppy dog eyes. Plus, he needs the extra caffeine.

“So, what’s the plan for when your friends get here?” Blaine asks, pulling apart his blueberry muffin and putting half on a napkin beside Kurt’s drink.

Kurt smiles in thanks — it’s a testament to his maturity that he doesn’t blush and stumble over his words the way he did weeks earlier, the first time Blaine wordlessly split his muffin with him — the domesticity of it all had mystified him, but now it feels like a routine. The best kind of routine.

“Well, I don’t want to dictate _every_ detail of their weekend,” he begins, popping a piece of muffin into his mouth.

Blaine rolls his eyes. “Not wanting control over every detail doesn’t sound much like you.”

Kurt sticks his tongue out childishly before turning his attention back to the itinerary. “This is different. I’ve been talking up a big game about how great life is here, and it has to live up to their expectations. Me dragging them from place to place to place for two days is going to frustrate them more than anything else.”

Blaine nods in understanding, leaning back in his seat and biting back a grin as he takes a sip of his drink. “So, _is_ life great here?”

Kurt takes his time answering, humming and tapping his pen to his pursed lips. “Yeah, I’d say things have been pretty great so far. Except there’s this _super_ annoying guy who keeps following me around everywhere, and buying me coffee, and inviting himself over for movie nights at my room, and—”

Blaine attacks before Kurt can finish, launching the remaining half of his muffin right at Kurt’s head. Kurt’s able to dodge just in time, the muffin landing with a wet smack on the empty table behind him.

“Do you want to get us banned for life?” Kurt hisses when the store manager shoots them a dirty look.

“I’m sorry, but the look on your face was totally worth it,” he replies, cleaning up the discarded muffin once he’s able to go longer than five seconds without laughing.

* * *

Kurt is excited to introduce Tina and Mercedes to a variety of things — Broadway, NYADA’s acapella groups, Central Park, Milk Bar, and perhaps most importantly: Blaine. Mercedes has her suspicions from the moment Blaine becomes a series regular in Kurt’s dramatic retellings of his adventures in the city. Tina does too, but never pries Kurt for the details.

But Mercedes is anything but subtle. The first time Kurt tagged Blaine in one of his tweets, Mercedes broke her silence and DMed him almost immediately with third degree-level questions. The paranoid side of him refused to discuss his love life over social media, even if it is private — so he promised to Skype her after class instead. She gave herself a victorious pat on the back as Kurt finally confessed that yes, he _like_ likes Blaine, and yes, he’s pretty certain he has since the moment he met him.

_“I knew it, I knew it, I knew,” she sang, snapping her fingers along to the beat she’d made up. “No offense, but you’re a pretty terrible liar for someone who wants to be an actor.”_

“So, when do we get to meet the great and mysterious Blaine?” Mercedes asks while she and Tina work on unpacking their suitcases.

Blaine, ever the gentleman, had originally politely turned down Kurt’s invitation to join them on their various excursions, bowing out so Kurt could enjoy his limited time with his friends. But Kurt insisted, and Blaine has a hard time saying no to him, so he gave in without a fight.

The words have only just left her mouth when, as if on command, Blaine appears in the doorway.

“I don’t know about great, but I _do_ consider myself pretty mysterious.”

Kurt smirks at the look of shock on Mercedes' face. He’s not sure if it’s because she was caught off guard, or if it’s because all of Kurt’s stories have hardly done Blaine justice, but either way, he’s pleased.

“Ladies, this is the great and mysterious Blaine. Great and mysterious Blaine, meet Tina and Mercedes.” Kurt beckons Blaine into the room, not missing the way Tina goes absolutely beet red when Blaine extends his hand out to her.

Pleasantries behind them, Blaine helps Kurt finish setting up the girls’ air mattresses. Tina is in the midst of a story about the glee club’s latest misguided fundraising endeavor when Brody returns from class with Quinn in tow. Kurt had asked Brody for permission to invite Tina and Mercedes for the weekend well in advance, and had even given him multiple reminders throughout the week that they’d be arriving Friday afternoon. Yet, there he stands, looking perplexed as to why there are two strangers standing in his bedroom.

“You must be Kurt’s friends from home!” Quinn says before dropping Brody’s hand to introduce herself to Tina and Mercedes.

“Oh, right,” Brody mumbles, scratching behind his neck as he steps into the room.

Quinn, Tina, and Mercedes exchange rounds of compliments — Tina loves Quinn’s dress, Mercedes asks her where she bought her shoes, Quinn praises both of their earrings. It gives Kurt enough time to sneak around them and pull Brody aside.

“Did you seriously forget that they were coming tonight? I reminded you **twice** today!” He doesn’t bother to keep up friendly pretenses. He’s annoyed. Brody, he can say without shame, is a _very_ annoying roommate. The secretive smoking he can handle, the frequent sexiling is less than ideal, but he can deal with it. But this is where he draws the line.

This time it’s Blaine’s turn to save Brody from having to make up an excuse for himself. “We’re going to see _Cloud Atlas_ at the Nitehawk, if you guys want to join.” Mercedes and Tina nod in agreement.

Brody looks prepared to turn down the offer until Quinn pouts. He groans and stammers as she slides up to him and whispers something in his ear that makes him blush.

“Yeah, sure, we’ll come,” he says quickly once she pulls away. “If that’s alright with you, Kurt?”

Kurt wants to say something snarky or roll his eyes or turn Brody down — he’s not ready to let him off the hook yet. But Tina and Mercedes look genuinely excited about the prospect of having Quinn along for the ride — even if it means Brody has to tag along too. He sighs, shrugging his shoulders and slapping on a smile.

“The more the merrier.”

Quinn, who quickly proves herself to be a saint incarnate, keeps Brody on his best behavior throughout the evening. She ‘accidentally’ steps on his foot when he starts making his critiques of the movie loud and clear while it’s still rolling. She pushes him away when he attempts to pull her in for a kiss during an action sequence, and passes around his popcorn to the others when he starts to spit the kernels onto the floor.

But Brody does wind up proving himself useful before the end of the night. Williamsburg is uncharted territory for many of them, but Brody has a general lay of the land. He guides them to a cozy restaurant a few blocks away from the theater, assuring them with a wink that they’ve never carded him before. No one takes a chance on ordering a drink — though Kurt doesn’t think even the most liberal of establishments would believe that he was a day over fourteen, let alone twenty-one.

Despite the rocky start to their evening, the conversation flows easily amongst the group. Blaine does an expert job of introducing new topics, while Quinn keeps Tina and Mercedes engaged whenever they begin to clam up. Even Brody engages in a conversation with Tina about vampire lore.

Kurt’s heart swells as he watches his best friends laugh and tease his newfound friends as though they’ve known one another for years. It’s perfect — having the people he’s missed so much beside him with the people, or rather _person_ , who has grown to mean so much to him. The night is building up to be one of the best of Kurt’s life, but just when he begins to let his guard down and let himself enjoy the company of his friends, the night takes a sour turn.

They somehow come around to the topic of dating in high school. Kurt blushes and shyly bows out of the conversation without arousing too much suspicion — both Tina and Mercedes know fully well that his romantic life in Lima was bordering on nonexistent. Tina props her chin up on her hand as she listens to Blaine’s romantic retelling of his first ever boyfriend — a sweet boy named Andrew who moved away during their sophomore year and broke his poor young heart.

“So, how long have you been together?” Tina asks when Blaine finishes the story with a sigh, pretending to wipe away nostalgic tears.

“Me and Andrew? We were probably together for three months, which is a lifetime in high school years,” he says with a chuckle.

“I meant you and Kurt!” Tina clarifies, clasping her hands together and looking at the boys expectantly.

Kurt stiffens, his lips still wrapped around his straw — his sip of Diet Coke hovering for a second before splashing back down into the cup. He doesn’t dare look over at Blaine, but he notes an immediate, uncomfortable shift. They’re crammed together as close as they can be to huddle around their single table, close enough that Blaine’s knee has been pressed firm to Kurt’s throughout the entire night. It had been warm and calming and now that’s gone too. Kurt crosses his legs and shifts back in his seat, finally turning to look at Blaine.

“We, uh, we’re not together,” Kurt clarifies, gesturing to the space between himself and Blaine that now feels like miles.

“Oh,” Tina says quietly, immediately shrinking in on herself when she realizes what she’s done.

Blaine doesn’t appear too frazzled by the implication of someone thinking they’re a couple. His arms are crossed on the table in front of him, he nods in agreement at Kurt’s explanation before finishing off the last of his own soda.

“Wait seriously?” Brody pipes up, removing his arm from Quinn’s shoulders to lean in closer to the table. “I assumed you two were dating this whole time?”

“Nope, just friends,” Kurt replies through gritted teeth, popping the P in nope with unnecessary emphasis. “Obviously,” he tacks on nervously, hearing Blaine shift beside him.

“Just friends,” Blaine echoes before popping a handful of ice into his mouth with a disturbing crunch.

Brody is prepared to question them further, but Quinn swoops in to save the day once again, shoving her elbow into his side when he opens his mouth. Kurt puts on what he knows is an awkward and forced smile as he shrugs and attempts to relax in his seat.

It takes a second, but the conversation moves on. Neither of them say much else for the remainder of the night, their bodies slowly shifting further and further away as the night goes on. Kurt’s not sure how it happens — he swears he’s shifting his chair closer to Blaine, trying to get closer to him again. Or maybe it’s him, maybe _he’s_ the one shifting away. Maybe he does it because he can’t bear to have Blaine so unmoving and distant and cold beside him. Maybe he does it because he doesn’t want to feel the absence of Blaine’s eyes on him. Maybe he does it because he can’t bear to look over at Blaine, sneak glances at him, and never get more than his shoulder or the back of his head. Maybe he does it because he doesn’t want to let Blaine avoid him first. Maybe he does it because Blaine doesn’t _want_ him and that’s never been more clear now than ever before.

They pair off for their trek to the subway. Kurt is thankfully flanked by Tina and Mercedes, their arms looped through his as they chatter away, completely unphased by Kurt’s sudden shift in mood. He glances over at Blaine as they stop at a red light, watching him listen, stone faced, to Brody complain about his latest project.

The subway ride back to campus is mostly silent — a comfortable silence. Everyone is slumped in their seats, heads lolling back and eyes drooping as they rocket through the city. They’re too exhausted to do much more than struggle to keep themselves upright. Tina and Mercedes rest their heads on Kurt’s shoulders when he assures them that he’ll wake them up when they get to their stop.

Blaine sits across from him, unfortunately wedged between Quinn and Brody. Blaine’s struggling to stay awake himself, his head drooping lower and lower until he’s almost bent in half, snapping up and blinking blearily every couple of minutes. Their eyes meet briefly, Blaine rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and stifling a yawn. He smiles — that same relaxed, sleepy smile he’s given Kurt dozens of times when they meet up before their morning classes, or when he finally says goodbye for the night. He’s beautiful, so much so it makes Kurt’s body ache to resist that desperate want to pull him close and never let go. That little smile, the one he knows so well, is a tiny bit of comfort. Maybe things will be okay after all.

They all trudge slowly back to campus — Tina and Mercedes clinging to Kurt to guide them back. Brody and Quinn break off from the group to walk Quinn back to her dorm on the opposite end of campus, saying goodbyes through yawns and making vague plans to meet up one more time before the girls head back to Ohio. The rest of the group finish off their journey in silence, Blaine trailing just behind Kurt and the girls. Blaine lingers for just a moment as Kurt unlocks his door. It’s long enough for the girls to shuffle back inside and slump straight onto their air mattresses, Kurt pulling the door almost completely closed and turning to Blaine, giving them a bit of privacy.

“So… you’re still joining us for brunch tomorrow?” It’s a simple question, a confirmation of a plan. But they both know the weight of those words. It’s “Are we okay?” “Are _you_ okay?” “Please say we’ll still be fine” “Please say we’re still friends” “Please say you might still want me” loaded and packed into just one sentence.

Blaine looks down at his shoes and keeps his gaze there as he answers. “I think I’m going to pass actually.”

“Oh… okay.” It’s an impressive reply, considering all Kurt wants is for the ground to swallow him whole.

“I’ll see you later,” Blaine replies before heading off down the hall to his own room.

Kurt’s grateful that the girls are too exhausted to notice him stumbling back into the room. He collapses at his desk chair, not trusting himself to make it all the way to his bed. He tells himself not to cry because there’s no reason to. He’s an adult now, he can’t just sit at his desk and cry because he embarrassed himself in front of a boy that he likes.

Maybe turning down brunch doesn’t mean anything — maybe Blaine’s just tired. Maybe Blaine growing more and more distant after Tina and Brody’s slip ups doesn’t mean anything either — maybe he’s having a bad day. Maybe there’s still hope. Or maybe he’s just telling himself what he wants to hear.

Kurt kicks off his shoes and crawls into bed without a care for pajamas or brushing his teeth or his nightly skincare routine. He just wants the world to turn off for a few minutes. Maybe then he can stop thinking about Blaine. Maybe then he can stop dwelling on the sound of Blaine’s silence.

* * *

_** September 2020 ** _

Blaine always looks forward to brunch with Kurt — it’s the highlight of his week, sometimes even the highlight of his month. It’s the only real tradition he’s kept up since moving to the city, which feels clichely appropriate. Brunch is great. Brunch is _always_ great — getting to spend time with Kurt is always welcome, and Kurt has a special knack for finding the best brunch spots in the city. But, beginning the morning after Kurt’s FaceTime call announcing his engagement, an unsettling weight sits too comfortably in the pit of Blaine’s stomach.

At first, he brushes it off as an upset stomach — he’d indulged Sebastian’s craving for salmon for dinner despite his resolution to eat less animal-based protein. This must be Mother Nature’s way of punishing him for straying from his plant-based diet.

But the weight lingers. It grows when Kurt changes his Facebook status to _Engaged,_ and it twists uncomfortably when he posts the same photo he’d texted Blaine on Instagram.

_@khummel **I said yes!**_

The post is flooded with comments in minutes — friends he knows Kurt hasn’t spoken to in years come out of the woodwork to wish him congratulations. He spends more time than he should on Adam’s page, scrolling through all of the photos he’s posted of Kurt over the past several months. He tosses his phone aside when he feels a headache coming on, burrowing under the covers and telling himself he feels off because he hasn’t had any coffee yet.

He feels fine Sunday morning — better than he’s felt all week. He’s looking forward to seeing Kurt, who always manages to pull him out of his funks. It doesn’t feel like anything’s changed when they hug each other outside of the restaurant. Just when Blaine starts to think that everything will remain the same, he catches sight of the ring. The simple platinum band on Kurt’s ring finger, much bolder and brighter in person than in photos — and not all that dissimilar from the one on his own ring finger. It feels like a punch in the gut.

“You okay?” Kurt asks as they settle down at their table.

Blaine pries his eyes away from the ring, shaking his head and smiling. “Yeah, sorry — just really need some coffee.”

Perhaps it was naive of Blaine to think that Kurt wouldn’t bring up the engagement during brunch — but he doesn’t expect it to dominate the conversation. Blaine doesn’t have very many updates in his own life. He briefly catches Kurt up on some ongoing office drama involving his coworker and the obvious affair she’s involved in with their married supervisor, before turning the spotlight over to Kurt.

It’s all he talks about. He recounts the day of the proposal in excruciating detail, from what he wore to what they ordered, to the temperature in the restaurant, to how incredible the sex afterwards was. Blaine throws back the remainder of his fifth mimosa in a vain attempt to quickly erase the knowledge he now has of Adam’s sexual preferences. It doesn’t work immediately, but the mimosas are still bottomless for another hour, so there’s hope.

Kurt has already made a remarkable amount of progress on wedding planning, considering he’s only been engaged for a week. Though Blaine shouldn’t be surprised, Kurt has always been a masterful party planner. Kurt pulls out a scrap of paper from his bag, handing it to Blaine with a proud grin.

It’s a list of possible venues, written in both Kurt’s signature loopy scrawl and Adam’s unfairly neat handwriting.

“Gallow Green is the frontrunner right now, but scheduling something in the spring will be a nightmare,” he laments as he takes a break to eat some of his still untouched omelette.

He swallows hard around his drink. The thought of Kurt getting married in the spring, just a few months away makes his head spin. Based on what he remembers of Kurt’s elaborate plans, he’d assumed the engagement was the first step on a long, long road to an undoubtedly lavish wedding.

“What happened to wanting to stay engaged for over a year before getting married?” Blaine prods as he accepts the slip of paper.

Kurt shrugs. “Adam doesn’t like the idea of a long engagement.”

Blaine takes a moment to scan the list, surprised at the options Kurt and Adam have come up with. He recognizes a couple of venues from his own halfhearted wedding planning, but notes that none of the venues Kurt had once daydreamed about have made the list. One most notably.

“You gave up on the Plaza after all, huh?” Blaine asks with a quirked eyebrow. It’s no secret that Adam isn’t the fabulously wealthy fiance Kurt had once dreamed of, but it doesn’t mean the Plaza isn’t an impossible grab.

Kurt mumbles something around his mouthful of omelette. Blaine shakes his head, urging Kurt to repeat himself once he’s swallowed. Kurt bites his lip, taking a sip of his own mimosa before replying.

“Adam thinks the Plaza is tacky,” he confesses, taking the slip of paper back from Blaine and tucking it back into his bag.

“Seriously?” Blaine asks incredulously. Sure, the Plaza might be a somewhat cliche option, but it’s anything but tacky.

Kurt shrugs, occupying himself with rearranging the table’s sugar packets. “Aren’t weddings all about compromises?”

Blaine remains silent — he supposes that’s true, not that he would know himself. He hasn’t made any actual progress on his own wedding planning — a fact his mother brings up almost constantly. “Seems like you’re already compromising on a lot,” Blaine mutters. He doesn’t mean to say it out loud, but he doesn’t regret it when the words come out before he can stop them.

Kurt rolls his eyes, brushing Blaine off with a wave of his fork. “It’s just a wedding venue. I think I’ll live if my wedding is somewhere other than the Plaza.” He’s being sarcastic, but Blaine senses the bite in his tone — his guard is up.

“I wasn’t talking about wedding venues,” Blaine clarifies, leaning in closer to Kurt, his sixth mimosa giving him all the liquid courage he needs. “You two don’t live together.”

Blaine knows Kurt like the back of his hand. He knows him better than he knows his own brother. Of all the things he’s learned and memorized about Kurt over the years, he can confidently say he knows the most about Kurt’s dreams — dreams of a starring role on Broadway, finding love, settling down in a beautiful apartment, throwing a wedding the size of the city itself. He knows fully well what Kurt’s expectations from his relationships are, what he’s looking for in a future partner.

He can tell Kurt’s annoyed by the shift and roll of his shoulders, but his voice is calm when he replies. “Adam’s lease isn’t up until February and it didn’t make sense for him to move in before then.”

“Haven’t you always said you’d want to live with someone for a minimum of a year before getting engaged?” Blaine pushes, knowing it could potentially backfire.

Kurt is someone who knows what he wants for himself and doesn’t let anyone get in the way of that — it’s one of Blaine’s favorite things about him. Adam may tick off Kurt’s boxes in theory — but in practice, their relationship is far from what he knows Kurt pictured as prime for engagement. He pries because Kurt is his best friend, he doesn’t want him to rush into something he might not necessarily be ready for. He’s confident it’s what any of their friends would do if they were in his position — Rachel, Mercedes, Tina, Quinn, any of them would ask him if he’s jumping the gun with Adam. He’s sure of it.

“I said that in college when I’d never even had a boyfriend before,” Kurt snaps back, less kind this time.

“You said that last year, Kurt,” Blaine presses.

Kurt slams his glass down hard enough to shake the table. His jaw set hard as stone. “What’re you doing, Blaine?”

Blaine throws up his hands as he shrugs. Maybe he should’ve stopped after that last mimosa, but it’s too late to turn back now. “I just think you and Adam might be moving a little fast.”

A little is an understatement. Thanks to his thorough digging on Adam’s Instagram, Blaine can confirm that Kurt and Adam have only been together for about nine months.

“Didn’t you break up with that guy, Daniel, after six months because he gave you a key to his place?” Blaine tacks on, driving his point home.

Kurt scoffs at the mention of Daniel. “That was completely different. I was already considering breaking up with Daniel at that point,” he protests.

Blaine hums, knowing all too well that Kurt is lying through his teeth. “Hadn’t you just said ‘I love you’ to him the week before he gave you the key?”

Kurt looks like he’s prepared to wring Blaine’s neck with his bowtie. “Since when are you the expert on my romantic history?”

Blaine pleads the fifth, choosing to ignore the question. The alcohol may have weakened his filter, but he’s lucid enough to know to drop the subject of Kurt’s exes.

“You’re my best friend. I’m just keeping an eye out for you,” Blaine says, a diplomatic answer.

“You don’t like Adam,” Kurt snaps as soon as he’s finished, pointing his fork accusingly at Blaine.

“It’s not that, I do like him.” He doesn’t, but that’s besides the point. “You’ve been talking about what you want for yourself for years, and it seems like you’re compromising on a lot of things that were — _are_ — really important to you for this guy.”

Kurt sucks his teeth, throwing his fork onto his plate as he sits back with crossed arms. “I thought you would be happy for me.”

“I _am_ happy for you,” Blaine clarifies. He is, really. Anything that makes Kurt happy makes him happy, and if Adam makes him happy then so be it. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be concerned for you too.”

“You make it sound like I’m engaged to an axe murderer.” It’s the type of snark Kurt typically spares Blaine from, but he’s been pushed far enough to stop playing nice.

“Maybe you are, what do we know about Adam besides that he likes doing improv and that he’s British?”

It’s supposed to be a joke, something to cut through the tension, but Kurt clearly doesn’t see it that way.

“I know plenty about Adam,” he retorts defensively. “And you would too if you bothered to try to get to know him,” he tacks on.

Now this Blaine takes issue with. He’s tried, genuinely, to get to know Adam — and he is _definitely_ not the problem in that equation. “Maybe I would know him better if he spent less time trying to makeout with you and more time actually getting to know your friends.”

It’s a small part of the reason Blaine doesn’t like Adam. He hates the way Adam pulls Kurt in whenever they’re out with friends — the way he buries his face in Kurt’s neck and tries to drag him away to do god knows what. He knows Kurt hates it too, or is at least embarrassed by it — he’s never been fond of PDA.

Kurt blushes, looking away from Blaine with a huff. He knows it's true, it’s impossible to deny. Rachel has already called them out on it before.

 _“Excuse me, I’m speaking!” she’d shouted when Adam pulled Kurt in for a kiss in the middle of her hundredth retelling of the story of how she landed her_ Funny Girl _audition._

They’re both quiet, eyes averted from each other. Blaine focuses on the conversations around them, the dull hum of the music playing over the speakers, the clatter of dishes. It all seems so much louder than before, like the room is trying to drown out the silence between them.

“Not everyone can be like you, you know,” Kurt says after several minutes. Blaine’s ready to question what he means by that, but Kurt finishes for him. “Getting engaged with no plans to _actually_ get married.”

It feels like a slap in the face — both the sentiment, and the way Kurt’s eyes have gone glossy, his lower lip quivering.

“Please don’t make this about me,” Blaine whispers. He knows they’ve gone too far now, that there’s no way to turn things around and make things okay again. Not anymore.

“It’s always been about you,” he mutters, sniffling harshly as he pushes his chair back from the table and starts to gather his things.

He winces — the accusation stings more than he would’ve thought, and he’s not even sure he can deny it. He doesn’t bother finding an appropriate response, it would take him hours.

“Kurt, please don’t leave,” Blaine pleads, struggling to catch his balance as he stands up far too quickly than he should have.

“I’m not going to sit here and let you be a judgemental little shit,” he says louder than he should — arousing attention from those sitting around them.

“Kurt, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t say you didn’t mean it, because we both know that you did.” Kurt’s eyes are shut as he says it, his hands beginning to shake in frustration.

“Kurt…” He says his name with conviction, with feeling, with love — he knows Kurt doesn’t want to listen to him, so he’ll try to get through to him in as few words as possible.

“If you’re not going to be happy for me, then don’t bother coming to my wedding.”

Kurt reaches into his bag, throwing a thick envelope onto the table along with a bundle of crumpled up bills from his wallet and storms out of the restaurant. The intrigued onlookers watch as Kurt slams the door behind him, turning back to peek at Blaine as Kurt disappears from view. He slumps back down into his seat, running shaking fingers through his hair — grimacing as clumps of gel stick between his knuckles.

The onlookers lose interest in him when it’s clear the show is over. Their waitress approaches him nervously, waiting until he looks up from Kurt’s empty seat to address him.

“Can I clear those plates out of your way?”

He pauses, frowning at Kurt’s still half full plate. He knows there’s no chance Kurt is coming back — he’d sooner drop dead before ruining a dramatic exit. He nods to the waitress, quickly grabbing the envelope Kurt had left behind first. He sets it back on the table once their plates are cleared and the bill has been paid. He pulls off the post it note on the top of the envelope.

_I finally got around to organizing all of those unlabelled boxes in my closet (yes, I know, I should’ve done this months ago) and found these! I kept my favorites, and all of the embarrassing ones for blackmail. I hope they make you smile as much as I did! xoxo Kurt_

It’s a collection of photos, mostly from their college days, but a few from the year that they lived together after graduation. He flips through them slowly, savouring the memory each photo holds. Him and Sam balancing spoons on their noses in the cafeteria. Kurt and Quinn making snow angels. Mercedes and Rachel covered in lipstick kisses after their first Rocky Horror Picture Show. Dozens of photos from their Spring Break road trip their junior year. Tina passed out in a bathtub on her 21st birthday. Kurt, Blaine, Rachel, and Quinn popping a bottle of champagne together on their graduation day. Kurt with his head in Blaine’s lap, half asleep in the middle of Central Park, the remnants of a picnic just out of focus.

They all make him smile, but the last one makes him smile the hardest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always: my beta, Adri, is wonderful in a myriad of ways~
> 
> this chapter goes out to the love of my life: Artichoke Pizza, miss you boo <3

_** October - November 2012 ** _

“I officially call this virtual meeting of the Warblers to order,” Wes announces with an air of grandeur, banging his gavel on the edge of his desk.

“Is the gavel really necessary?” Trent pipes up.

“We’re not even Warblers anymore,” Jeff adds, shrinking in on himself when Wes glares angrily at his webcam.

“We’re not debating this again!” Wes protests, banging his gavel once more for emphasis. He can still strike fear into his former subjects even from hundreds of miles away. “Warbler Blaine, you have the floor.”

“ _Former_ Warbler Blaine,” Trent corrects, giggling when Wes goes red in the face.

“I _will_ kick you out of this chatroom,” he warns, shaking the gavel at his camera.

Blaine waits until the tensions have simmered down, clearing his throat for good measure. Once he’s sure the others have had enough of heckling Wes, he begins.

“I have an… unfortunate update on the situation we discussed last week.”

There’s a collective wave of sympathy — it’s a clamor of voices one on top of the other, all assuring Blaine that it’ll be alright before he’s even had the chance to tell them what went wrong. Wes bangs his gavel until everyone quiets down, several of them wincing as they take out their headphones or turn down their sound.

“Can the peanut gallery please refrain from commentary until Blaine is finished?” he asks with a pointed glare.

A couple of the boys look as though they’re going to poke the beast, but they decide against it, giving Blaine the floor again.

“I think Operation Anderson-Hummel is a bust,” Blaine says with a sigh.

“I thought we were calling it Operation Klaine?” Jeff interrupts, squeaking back into silence when Wes growls in warning.

Blaine doesn’t bother addressing Jeff’s interruption — he’s never been a fan of mashed up names. “Things were going great all week, everything seemed normal. Kurt’s friends from back home are awesome, and we were having a really great time last night when…” He trails off, shyly looking down at his linked fingers. He wrings them together, keeping his gaze away from his computer screen as he continues. “One of the girls, Tina, asked me and Kurt how long we’ve been together, and Kurt just… froze up. He looked like he wanted to disappear, or something. He said no… well, actually he said ‘obviously no.’ He wouldn’t even look at me for the rest of the night.”

The boys remain silent, waiting until they’re sure Blaine’s done before Trent speaks up. “Has he said anything to you since last night?”

“We were supposed to go to brunch today — he asked me if I was still coming last night, but I turned him down. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but it just felt… weird. Like maybe he didn’t want me there anymore?” He shrugs, propping his chin up on his fist. “I think I screwed everything up.”

The boys clamor over one another yet again to assure him that it isn’t his fault, all quieting down one at a time when Wes begins to lift his gavel.

“You didn’t screw anything up, Blaine,” Wes begins, setting his gavel aside. “That’s an awkward situation to be in, maybe Kurt just felt uncomfortable because he was worried about what _you_ might think,” he reasons, several of the Warblers nodding.

“You do also have a tendency to overthink things,” David adds, which incites several murmurs and hums of agreement.

Blaine sighs dramatically. Yes, he knows he has a bad habit of thinking things to death, and the Warblers know just as well. His overthinking was what landed him in hot water with a former crush, after he’d persuaded the Warblers to help woo said crush by serenading him at the Gap where he worked. It was humiliating, to say the least — and the Warblers refuse to let him live it down.

“I’m not overthinking things, I’m just playing it safe,” he explains. “Kurt is the best friend that I have in New York and I don’t want to make things weird between us.”

“I’m guessing this means the plan to ask him out through song is off?” Trent asks with furrowed brows. He’d been in charge of finding the perfect song for Blaine to convey his feelings for Kurt the best way he knows how.

Blaine groans, letting his head fall out of frame as he bangs it in defeat against his desk.”I don’t know anymore.”

“Pick your head up, man!” David shouts, knowing Blaine too well to let him fall into one of his moods. “Let’s put the plans for romance on the back burner for now. Focus on being yourself, see if Kurt’s still acting weird by tomorrow. If he is, he’s not interested, and you move on. If he isn’t, then maybe there’s a chance he’s interested in you too. You’ve just gotta play it cool.”

Blaine picks himself back up, frowning but still nodding. He knows David’s advice is the way to go, but he can’t ignore the nerves that creep along the back of his neck and down his spine at the thought of seeing Kurt again. It’s the first time he’s ever _not_ looked forward to seeing Kurt. The butterflies in his stomach that usually blossom whenever he talks about, or even just _thinks_ about Kurt have disappeared, replaced by a nagging feeling that things are going to change between them now, and not the way he’d hoped.

* * *

Playing it cool proves more difficult than Blaine had anticipated. He quickly apologizes to Kurt for cancelling on brunch, Kurt assuring him just as quickly that it’s not a problem. They all meet up again once Kurt, Tina, and Mercedes have returned from brunch, Blaine offering to help out with putting the finishing touches on Tina’s Lady Gaga Halloween costume. It’s easy to pretend as though nothing has shifted between him and Kurt when they’re surrounded by friends.

The rest of the weekend breezes by in a blur of laughter and memories he’ll cherish for the rest of his college career, and likely beyond. He exchanges numbers with Tina and Mercedes, making sure to approve both of their Facebook friend requests before they head off to the airport Sunday afternoon. They walk the girls to the subway, going over the directions to get to JFK three more times before sending them away with hugs and kisses on the cheek.

Blaine wonders if Kurt thinks the silence between them as they walk back to campus is awkward. He stays a polite distance away, not letting their hands knock together as they usually would when they walk side by side — each brush of Kurt’s skin on his igniting his heart. His chest feels tight from the pressure of finding just the right thing to say, something that’ll bridge the gap that he so desperately wants to close.

“Did you still want to do that _Scandal_ rewatch this week?” Kurt asks, biting his lip, keeping his hands in his pocket and his eyes straight forward.

Blaine tells himself that this isn’t as loaded a question for Kurt as it is for him. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Kurt smiles, finally turning to look at him. Blaine realizes it’s the first time they’ve looked at each other, _really_ looked at each other, since Friday night — he’s never been so relieved to lock onto those eyes he’s grown to love.

“My room after class tomorrow?” Kurt proposes. It looks as though his shoulders relax, no longer tight and locked just below his ears — but Blaine doesn’t let himself overthink, he doesn’t let himself spiral down that road again.

“Sounds awesome,” he replies with a grin. It does sound awesome — any chance to spend time with Kurt is awesome.

It’s as simple as that.

They fall back into their routine in no time at all. Blaine anticipates hiccups along the way, but it’s as though The Incident never happened. Kurt is perhaps a bit more reserved, leans in to Blaine’s touch less and less until Blaine doesn’t extend those touches anymore, fearing he’ll topple the delicate balance between them.

Midterms sneak up on them — it feels like they’ve only just gotten the lay of the land when they’re suddenly confined to their rooms or the library to study. They put their budding social lives on pause to focus, but they each remain a constant for the other. Blaine sits quietly on the floor of the practice room while Kurt goes over the choreography for his Contemporary Dance midterm dozens of times, correcting his form and providing helpful critique whenever needed. In turn, Kurt helps Blaine create an elaborate series of flashcards for his Music Skills midterm — making sure to quiz him every morning during their usual coffee run.

They decide that making it through their first ever college midterms season relatively unscathed calls for a celebration. They venture off campus and down to the East Village solely to cross Artichoke Pizza off of their New York Restaurant bucket list, quickly abandoning their plan to walk all the way back up to campus to burn off those extra calories — their bodies are still sore from their respective dance exams, they deserve a little carefree indulgence. They take their time walking back to the subway, settling on a bench in Union Square to finish off their pizza and take in the city that has felt so distant while they were cooped up on campus.

They chat excitedly about their plans for the remainder of the semester. Blaine could go on for hours about the all-female adaptation of _Much Ado About Nothing_ he’s working on with STOP — and while he knows Kurt will always happily listen, he spares him and only divulges the juicier details.

While auditions aren’t for another week and a half, Rachel Berry has already made it quite clear she won’t accept anything less than the role of Beatrice. Blaine was quick to assure her that he was looking forward to seeing her at auditions, only for Rachel to drop the unexpected news that Jesse had already promised her the role.

“Turns out they’ve been ‘seeing each other’ since the last karaoke night,” Blaine explains, giggling at the completely gobsmacked expression on Kurt’s face.

“I was wondering why she suddenly started wearing turtlenecks everyday instead of those hideous reindeer sweaters. It all makes so much sense now.” Kurt slumps back against the bench, shaking his head as he puts all of the pieces together.

“I don’t think the world is ready for the combined forces of Jesse St. James and Rachel Berry,” he says with a dramatic wave of his hand that makes Kurt snort.

“Maybe it’s just a showmance,” Kurt proposes as he finishes off the last of his pizza crust. “Except, before the show actually starts. A pre-show showmance.”

Blaine shrugs, offering his own last bite of pizza crust to Kurt, who happily accepts. “Can showmances even be a thing at a place like NYADA? There are shows going on pretty much 24/7.”

“Oh they’re definitely a thing,” Kurt answers quickly. “Half of the _Chicago_ cast has been shacked up since the first week of rehearsals.” He shifts oddly, the corners of his mouth tugged downwards as he uncrosses his legs stiffly, squeezing his knees until his knuckles bloom white. “Remember my understudy? Chandler?”

Blaine’s brows furrow as he wracks his brain — the name Chandler certainly sounds familiar. He snaps his fingers as it suddenly comes to him.

“The guy who tripped over himself trying to say hi to you in the cafeteria?”

Kurt nods, his cheeks flushing when Blaine laughs at the memory of meeting his… overeager castmate.

“He asked me out yesterday,” Kurt confesses, so quiet Blaine is half convinced he’s hearing things.

“What?” Blaine asks, just to be sure.

“He asked me out. On a date. He basically cornered me on my way out of rehearsal yesterday and… yeah,” he finishes with a shrug.

“Oh,” Blaine replies, quickly relaxing his face when he realizes his eyebrows have shot up practically to his hairline.

He shouldn’t be surprised that Chandler asked Kurt out, even the blind would be able to see that Chandler was completely lovestruck, but he is. After their run-in at the cafeteria, Blaine was sure that Chandler would be asking Kurt out on a date within a matter of days — but weeks go by, and Blaine completely forgets about Chandler. He’d gone from thinking of him as a potential threat to his plans for something more with Kurt, to never thinking about him at all.

“What did you say?” Blaine asks once he’s able to put his thoughts back together again.

Kurt bites his lip, shrugging halfheartedly. “I said I’d think about it,” he mumbles before shifting, turning to face Blaine. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“Going out with Chandler?” It’s a stupid question, of course that’s what Kurt’s asking, but it buys him time. But not much — all Kurt does is nod and blush an even more endearing shade of pink.

He wasn’t prepared to have such a significant ball in his court, and he’s not sure what kind of answer Kurt’s looking for. The optimist in him wants it to be the truth — to say no, it’s a terrible idea. It’s a terrible idea because Kurt is the first thing he thinks of every morning and his laugh, his eyes, his smile that make him feel like breaking out into song are the last things he thinks about before he goes to bed. It’s a terrible idea because even if Blaine doesn’t quite know what it means to be in love, he doesn’t want to live in a world where what he feels for Kurt isn’t love.

“Uh… well, yeah. If that’s what you want,” he answers diplomatically.

“I don’t know what I want,” is Kurt’s answer, and it’s so vague it makes Blaine want to pull his hair out, or pull Kurt in and finally, _finally_ kiss him. Or both.

He strongly considers it — kissing Kurt. It wouldn’t be a romantic, unexpected embrace on a bridge in Central Park at sunset with an orchestra striking up in the background at exactly the moment their lips met, the way he’s fantasized for weeks. The park smells a little bit like manure, and a fight has broken out across the street between four taxi drivers — it’s not at all an ideal set of circumstances, but there’s no doubt in his mind that it would be perfect. Because it would be with Kurt, who, in all of his imperfections, is the most perfect thing to ever happen to Blaine.

He doesn’t do it. Not because he doesn’t want to — he wants to more than he’s ever wanted to kiss anyone, including Justin Timberlake — but because he’s afraid. He’s afraid that if he crosses that line then there’ll be no going back this time. He’s spent years wondering if he’ll ever meet someone who he _truly_ feels comfortable around, and now he has, and there’s a possibility that he could lose him. He thinks of all the ways things have changed between them — the loss of the fleeting touches, straying away from the topics of love and romance. There are more signs that this is something Kurt doesn’t want than there are signs that he does.

In the end, Blaine decides he would rather have Kurt as a friend than risk not having him in his life at all. So he doesn’t close the distance and kiss him until they’re gasping for breath. He sits back and says, “I think you should do it.”

Kurt looks surprised, blinking in confusion before replying. “Really?”

“Sure.” Blaine shrugs. “No harm in exploring the NYADA dating scene, right?”

He does his best to remain casual, but he suddenly feels like he’s going to be sick. Just a few weeks ago he’d been searching for a song that perfectly encapsulated the way he felt for Kurt, and now here he is, telling him to go out on a date with someone else.

“I guess not,” Kurt says before tossing out his plate and standing up from the bench. “We should probably head back now, it’s getting late.”

Blaine nods in agreement, and doesn’t let himself believe that what he hears in Kurt’s voice is disappointment.

* * *

_** September - October 2020 ** _

Kurt does his best to put his argument with Blaine behind him, he really does — but every time he thinks he’s done replaying every single word of that conversation, the sound of Blaine whispering his name as he walks away comes creeping back. It’s like a virus, clinging hard and fast to every part of him and refusing to let go, no matter what he does to stop it.

The only solace Kurt has is the stage. It’s a rather busy week, for which he’s grateful. He has to step into the role of Scorpious two days in a row after an unfortunate backstage prank leaves three actors injured — the entire cast and crew received a strongly worded email from their Stage Manager about pre-show hijinks the following night. He always gives himself over completely while performing, but having the added weight of taking on a leading role with little notice keeps him especially occupied. It doesn’t give him time to think about Blaine, or the fact that this is the longest they’ve gone without speaking in years.

Adam winds up spending the week at his own apartment, not wanting to trek the extra 25 minutes to Kurt’s place after a series of stressful workdays. Kurt’s grateful for the alone time at first, he doesn’t want Adam to see how upset he is, or have to explain why he’s so upset in the first place. He considers texting Rachel, or Tina, or Mercedes, or Quinn, or anyone who isn’t Blaine, really — but can’t find it in him to type out what happened. Instead, he tells the story to his harshest critic, his cat. Hepburn is as judgemental as ever, watching her owner drown his sorrows with an unspeakable amount of ice cream and terrible reality TV, not even gracing him with so much as a meow of sympathy. After four days of social isolation, he starts to go a little insane.

Even so, he feels unusually nervous when Adam appears at his doorstep Friday morning with coffee and bagels. The part of him that’s still able to function normally post-argument with Blaine is elated, pulling Adam in for an eager welcome kiss. But the parts of him that don’t brew nagging thoughts of _Are we moving too fast? We still don’t live together. We’ve barely been together a year._

Kurt does what he can to silence those thoughts as he busies himself in the kitchen with slicing their bagels and setting out cream cheese. He’s a performer, he can pretend not to be a nervous wreck for one afternoon. He smiles when Adam’s arms wrap warm and firm around his waist, his lips trailing up and along the side of his neck, until they pause just below his ear.

“You seem tense,” he whispers, his thumbs pulling back to rub slow circles along his hips.

“Busy week,” Kurt squeaks out, hand curling too tightly on the plastic knife in his hand.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks before kissing down the length of Kurt’s neck again, making him weak in the knees.

“N-no,” Kurt manages to choke out, tossing the plastic knife aside before turning around to face Adam, pulling him in for a proper kiss.

Their make out session interlude does the job of making Kurt forget all about Blaine for several blissful minutes, but it all comes flooding back mere seconds after they pull apart to cool down. Kurt curls in on himself on the opposite end of the couch, not able to hear anything Adam’s saying. It feels like he’s underwater, Adam’s words blurred and garbled together as he struggles to keep himself from saying something he’s gonna regret.

In the end, the logical part of him loses out to the irrational.

“How come I haven’t met your parents?” he blurts out, cutting off whatever Adam was saying. It’s not the most pressing question on his mind, but it’s one in a series of dozens of questions he has for Adam about the nature of their relationship.

“Because they live in England?” he replies as though it’s common sense, which it is. But there’s more to it.

“Yeah, obviously. But why haven’t I ever even spoken to them? You said you FaceTime your mom every other week.” He hasn’t even so much as seen a picture of Adam’s parents, though Adam has assured him on several occasions that they’re well aware that he’s thriving in New York City with a man that he loves dearly.

“I’ll usually talk to them during my lunch break at work — makes the time difference a little easier to manage,” he explains casually. “Why do you ask?”

Kurt shrugs uncomfortably, shaking his head. He knows he can’t stop what he’s already begun, so he presses. “You don’t think it’s odd that we’re engaged and I’ve never met your parents?”

Adam looks taken aback by the question, but doesn’t appear too concerned. “Not in particular. Maybe if we all lived on the same continent, or even just the same country. My parents have only met one of my ex-boyfriends, and that was from back in high school.” He shifts over to Kurt’s side of the couch, reaching for Kurt’s hands, his thumb running along the platinum band on his left hand. “Are you sure you’re alright? You seem… distant?”

Kurt squeezes Adam’s hands in his and gives him a weak smile. It hurts to look at Adam, so earnest and excited to see him, but only hear the disapproving tone of Blaine’s voice.

“I’m fine I’m just… I’m worried that maybe we’re moving a little fast?”

He doesn’t phrase it as a statement because he’s still not sure what he believes. As much as he hates to admit it, Blaine was right on several counts. He wouldn’t have thought of himself as ready to be engaged just yet — he and Adam wouldn’t be moving in together for quite some time, and their relationship, while sturdy and strong, is still in what he would consider the early stages. But when Adam got down on one knee there hadn’t been any doubt in his mind that he wanted to say yes. Shouldn’t that have been what mattered? That he was comfortable enough in his relationship to say yes without a moment of doubt?

While there were no doubts in the moment, the seeds of doubt began to grow in the days following the proposal. It began with his friends’ reactions to the news of his engagement. He was let down at first when no one — not even Rachel — matched his level of excitement. They were excited, sure, but it wasn’t the hugging and screaming and near tears joy he’d been expecting. Tina was the most excited of the close circle of friends he’d first shared the news with, sending him a barrage of emojis expressing her love and congratulations. Mercedes' reaction was even a bit harsh.

_“I leave New York City for six months and you go and get engaged to a man I’ve never even met?!”_ she’d said in what he brushed off as friendly teasing. The transition to leaving her friends in the city behind in favor of the West Coast had been difficult — perhaps she was just hurt that she was missing her friends’ milestones.

But Blaine had been the final piece. Hearing his best friend say that he was moving too fast broke down the dam holding back all of the worries and concerns and doubts he didn’t even know he’d been keeping bottled up inside of him. And now it was all he could think about.

Adam frowns, but doesn’t shy away from Kurt — instead moving in even closer to him, pulling Kurt’s hands into his lap.

“I wanted to wait a little bit longer to talk about this, but…” Adam begins, Kurt’s breath hitching as he automatically assumes the worst.

He’s fully prepared for Adam to announce that he's decided to rescind his proposal, or that he’s a wanted criminal, or an undercover FBI agent, or somewhere in between. But the truth isn’t at all what he’d anticipated.

“There’s been a lot of talk of budget cuts at work for this upcoming year. Thankfully it doesn’t look like layoffs are going to be an issue but… but my manager let me know it’s likely they won’t continue to sponsor my Visa.”

Kurt’s jaw drops — this is the one direction he hadn’t expected this conversation to go. He’s admittedly not all that knowledgeable about the circumstances of Adam’s citizenship — it’s one of those things he’s always planned to study up on but never got around to. While the possibility of Adam not only losing his job, but his ability to stay in the country, is troubling, he can’t help feeling a tad upset at the idea that Adam had an ulterior motive in proposing to him.

“So, you proposed because you… need a green card?” Kurt asks slowly, trying to remain level headed.

“No, no, that’s not it at all,” Adam rushes to say, releasing his hold on Kurt’s hand in favor of cupping his cheeks. “I proposed to you because I love you, and because I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he insists. He waits until Kurt’s expression has softened to continue. “Yes, the idea of the proposal came to me because of the situation at work, but the only reason I acted on that idea is because I _know_ I want to marry you. I don’t need another year or two to know that. And I don’t need to be married to you to sort out my situation, I can do that on my own. But if you’re feeling uncertain about things, or feel like we’re moving too fast, then we can slow things down, focus on just us again. I don’t want to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.”

Kurt is on the brink of tears by the time Adam is finished, shaking his head before crashing his lips against his fiancé’s. All of the doubt and the hurt and the worries are pushed down as he remembers exactly why he didn't hesitate in saying yes to Adam. Because Adam makes him feel special, and beautiful, and loved. Because Adam is the first man to come into his life and make him feel truly wanted. It doesn’t matter if his friends think that things are moving too fast, or if Blaine of all people doesn’t approve of his relationship. It doesn't have to matter — because Adam is all he needs.

* * *

Blaine hasn’t had many opportunities to put his performance degree to work in the years following his graduation from NYADA, but he puts on the performance of a lifetime in the week following brunch with Kurt. It’s not that he doesn’t want to tell Sebastian about the argument — Sebastian has made it abundantly clear that he thinks Kurt’s engagement is a terrible idea. What frightens him is the lingering, nagging feeling that everything Kurt had said about him was right.

It’s not that Blaine minds the idea of a long engagement — he’s not even sure, quite honestly, if he wants to be married within the year. What bothers him is the attitude that they’ve started to develop towards the idea of their wedding — that it doesn’t matter, that it’s not something important to them. It started with Sebastian, brushing off Blaine’s concerns and attempts at planning, and soon Blaine adopted that same attitude.

He spends more time thinking about his nonexistent wedding that week than he has for the entirety of his engagement. He and Sebastian haven’t so much as discussed a date for their wedding — he can’t honestly remember the last time they’d brought up even the possibility of planning. They brush off their parents' concerns with shrugs and smiles, assuring them that they’ll get to it eventually, but they never do — there’s always something that keeps them from taking things further — Sebastian has to prep for an upcoming trial, or Blaine squeezed in a few more clients after his usual office hours, or something in the apartment needs to be fixed, excuses ad infinitum.

But even Blaine’s best attempts at hiding his preoccupation don’t work on Sebastian. He’s able to put up a successful facade for a week before Sebastian begins to suspect that something is up. But, as usual, Sebastian gives him some space to figure things out on his own — letting a week go by before he says something.

“Alright, what’s going on?” Sebastian asks firmly, but gently, as he slides into the seat opposite Blaine at the dining table.

“Good morning to you too,” Blaine replies casually around a spoonful of cereal, looking up from his phone.

Sebastian gives him a snarky smile, reaching across the table and snatching Blaine’s phone from his hand and holding up a warning finger when he begins to protest.

“This entire week, you’ve been moping around and giving me one-word answers, you’re hardly eating anything for breakfast or dinner, and you forgot to walk Feta. Twice.”

Blaine swallows hard, setting down his spoon and looking over at Feta apologetically. The dog remains none the wiser, looking up at Blaine with his tongue half out and tail wagging at top speed.

“I’m sorry, Seb, it’s just been a weird week,” he replies halfheartedly, rubbing his sleep-worn eyes. The few hours of sleep he’s been able to get over the past two weeks have been plagued by dreams of Kurt and the look of pure despair on his face as he stormed out of the restaurant.

“Work?” Sebastian asks as he sets Blaine’s phone back down on the table, taking Blaine’s hand instead.

“No, work has been fine…” He trails off, exhaling heavily before continuing. “Kurt and I had a… disagreement at brunch. Things all went to hell, and I said some things I probably shouldn’t have and now we’re not talking to each other,” he says in one swift breath.

He peeks up at Sebastian — expecting a smirk or a chuckle, a moment of “I told you so.” It’s no secret to Blaine, or anyone else really, that Sebastian and Kurt aren’t ‘fond’ of one another. Their troubled history goes back years, all the way to their days at NYADA. While their years long feud has simmered down to a perfunctory tolerance of one another as they matured, Sebastian has never been afraid to take jabs at Kurt in the privacy of their home. It’s led to numerous arguments between them, but old habits die hard when it comes to rivalry.

But Sebastian doesn’t make some witty, snarky comment about Kurt, or Blaine, or their years-long friendship. He sees the hurt and the sadness in his fiancé’s eyes, in the way that he holds himself, and says nothing. He pulls his seat up beside Blaine and wraps an arm around him, squeezing his side.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, but if you do I’m always here to listen, okay? You don’t have to keep this type of stuff bottled up,” he says quietly, Blaine nodding in understanding.

“I know, I should have just told you about this when it happened but… I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it yet.”

Sebastian nods and doesn’t press the issue any further, leaving Blaine to finish his breakfast with a quick peck and a promise to pick up dinner.

* * *

Relieving himself of the burden of keeping his and Kurt’s falling out under wraps does little to ease Blaine’s worries. There’s still the matter of the topic of the argument — which he’s still yet to discuss with Sebastian. He tries to find a delicate way to bring up the subject of wedding planning, but when he finally finds the courage to speak up and the right words to say, Sebastian has to stay late at the office. So, he tries again — but Sebastian forgot to mention that he was going out with some friends for drinks after work. Blaine tries waiting up for him, but falls asleep on the couch and awakes the following morning with a throw blanket wrapped around him and Sebastian’s coffee mug already on the dish rack, washed and dried.

In the end, he just says it during the one opportunity he has.

“We should start working on planning the wedding,” he proposes very much out of the blue, cornering Sebastian as he steps out of the shower Saturday morning.

“Okay…” Sebastian replies, dragging out each syllable. “Can it wait until I’m dressed?” he teases, scooching past Blaine and heading to their bedroom.

Blaine slumps, but doesn’t let himself feel defeated. He perches himself on the edge of the couch, waiting patiently for Sebastian to reappear. He fiddles with the pamphlets and brochures he’d printed out at work, rearranging the stack once, then twice, before forcing himself to leave it alone. When Sebastian eventually steps back into the living room, dressed down with sweatpants and a t-shirt, his brow furrows.

“Oh, you really meant right now,” he says as he pads over to Blaine, eyeing the stack of brochures suspiciously.

“Well, it always feels like something comes up every time we’ve tried to plan before, so I thought getting a head start would give us the push we needed,” he explains, following the script he’s rehearsed in his mind countless times over the past several days.

Sebastian still seems wary as he settles on the couch beside Blaine, flipping through the stack. “This is… a lot to take in all at once.”

Blaine shrugs in an attempt to look casual. “Planning a wedding is a lot of work.”

Sebastian sighs, setting down the stack and running a hand through his damp hair. “What made you want to start looking up all of this stuff now?”

“We’ve been engaged for over a year, Seb. We keep saying we’re going to work on this and we never do. We don’t even know _when_ we want to get married,” he urges, trying to push down the echo of Kurt’s words in his ears.

Sebastian’s wariness resolves at the look on Blaine’s face. He shrugs, shifting uncomfortably but picking up the stack again. “Okay.”

It’s not the enthusiastic reply Blaine had been hoping for, but it’s a start nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick heads up to note the month/dates in this chapter as we'll be jumping around in time a lot more than usual for the next couple of chapters! 
> 
> Adri, as always, deserves a mountain of praise for all of her work on this chapter <3

_** October - April 2016 ** _

It takes approximately three years, eight months, and thirteen days for Kurt to rise to the top of the NYADA food chain, and the feeling is deliciously intoxicating. It’s not that he was an underdog during his first three years at NYADA — he’s had his fair share of successes over the past seven semesters. It’s just that he’s had to work _that_ much harder for those successes. His unusual vocal range labelled him an oddity, which he’d anticipated. It was the same song and dance he’d done dozens of times in high school.

He got his first leading role — a real, genuine leading role — his junior year. Sure, Blaine was the director, but he assured Kurt before auditions that he was welcome to try out — he wouldn’t let personal relationships cloud his judgement. Whispers of nepotism swirled mere minutes after the cast list was posted, but Kurt didn’t care. He was _finally_ going to be a lead _._

Things take an unexpected turn during Kurt’s final semester. He now has two leading roles under his belt, and a slew of supporting roles to pad his resume. He stacks his schedule in such a way to leave him ample time to rush off to open calls before class. He spends more time in line waiting to be seen, ignoring dirty looks from the familiar faces in line with him, than actually auditioning — but he remains optimistic.

It’s that same optimism that lands him the opportunity of a lifetime.

June Dalloway is as revered a name as Patti LuPone and Berndette Peters amongst the NYADA community. A wealthy benefactor of the school and notable patron of the arts, her guidance opens doors that lead straight to Tony nominations. Tickets to her annual Spring showcase are almost impossible to come by — the majority of the seats are typically reserved for theatre royalty. June’s 2015 protege, Sunshine Corazon, told the story of her showcase to a crowd of nearly fifty envious students — the crowd gasping in unison when she revealed that Scott Rudin led the rousing standing ovation as she took her bows.

Kurt is quite the opposite of the type of student June usually seeks out. Blaine is more her type — handsome, charismatic, with a voice as smooth as honey. He’d practically be a shoo-in if he hadn’t broken his leg the previous year, accepting that his dancing would never be what it once was even long after he’s fully rehabilitated and back on his feet. He humbly brushes off Kurt’s encouragement to apply for June’s showcase regardless of the injury, insisting that he’s very much set in his decision to pivot post-graduation to a career in music therapy.

In turn, Blaine encourages Kurt’s small sliver of optimism, insisting that he apply for the showcase. Kurt wasn’t originally planning on applying — he didn’t think he had the illustrious resume or expansive, yet classic, range that June always sought out. Besides, if Blaine wasn’t vying for the top spot it would probably go to Rachel. Granted, as much as Kurt has come to love her over the years, Rachel doesn’t need an additional spotlight, she’s already well into rehearsals for her Broadway debut as Fanny Brice — but she’s never been one to turn down the opportunity to shine.

That small sliver of optimism grows into a beacon when Rachel and Quinn join in on Blaine’s efforts to encourage him to apply. Quinn doesn’t apply for the showcase herself, wanting to focus on trying to nab more film and television roles, and Rachel proclaims him the only person worthy of being her competition. Blaine coaches him as he picks out the perfect song for his audition piece, even going so far as to choreograph a quick routine to go with the number. Kurt sets his annoyances from freshman year aside and reaches out to Brody to help him put together his video audition. The end product is a bit artsier than what Kurt was envisioning, but when he notices Brody getting a little _too_ comfortable with Rachel in between takes, he decides to just go with the first cut.

When Kurt finds out he’s made it to the second round of auditions, he nearly passes out, but Blaine is thankfully there to catch him. When he finds out he’s made it to the top five, he hardly believes it. While the greater NYADA community isn’t as pleased with this development, Kurt’s closest friends are overjoyed — even Rachel, who doesn’t make it past the top ten, takes her loss in stride. In time, his peers let go of their jealousy and exchange their congratulations and support as he prepares for the final round of auditions.

Blaine, for the first time in their nearly four years of friendship, is successfully able to surprise Kurt. He asks Kurt and Sam if he can have the apartment to himself, claiming that he managed to schedule all of his remaining grad school interviews for that afternoon. They both happily oblige, Kurt even helping set up Blaine’s laptop in the living room in what he deems the most ideal lighting for video calls. He heads out of their apartment with enthusiastic well wishes, and wanders aimlessly throughout the city until Blaine finally gives him the okay to return home.

Their apartment is transformed — Kurt’s vintage flea market finds pushed into the safety of Sam’s already cluttered bedroom, the walls covered in streamers and the floor littered with balloons and glitter. Within seconds of opening the door Kurt is showered with confetti as his friends leap and cheer at his arrival.

“What’s going on?” Kurt asks, out of breath, when Blaine finally pulls up to his side and plants a wet kiss to his cheek, already well past tipsy.

“We’re celebrating you, dummy,” he teases as he slips a party hat onto Kurt, taking care not to disturb his pristine coif. The “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” message on each hat has been crossed out, replaced with “WAY TO GO KURT!” written over it in gold sharpie, and accompanied by Rachel’s signature gold star stickers.

Kurt gives himself a moment to take it all in — his friends chatting amongst each other, all wearing their festive party hats, the pure joy on Blaine’s face as he takes his hand and guides him through the room, the pats on the back and kisses on the cheek as his friends shout their congratulations as passes by.

It’s the best night of Kurt’s life.

* * *

Kurt is able to keep himself relatively calm in the weeks leading up to his first in-person showcase audition. He keeps his ear to the ground for any news about his competition. Things are off to a hopeful start when his biggest competition, Marley Rose, drops out of the running when she’s cast as a Carole King understudy in the touring production of _Beautiful._

He’s not too concerned about Harmony Pearce — much like Rachel, her overzealousness has made her a stand out amongst her peers. But unlike Rachel, Harmony hasn’t tempered her enthusiasm as she’s matured — it’s no secret that many casting directors have already written her off as ‘obnoxious.’ He’s not particularly concerned about Brittany Pierce either. She’s a fabulous dancer — probably the best NYADA has seen in years — but singing has never been her strong suit, and the showcase is first and foremost, a display of vocal talent.

Kurt isn’t able to find out any tidbits about the fifth person vying for the showcase. Rachel, who’s typically up to date on all things gossip, hasn’t heard anything either. Quinn does her best to pry information from June’s assistant, Artie Abrams — but he refuses to budge, proving strong despite all of Quinn’s usual charms. Instead of panicking about the unknown, Kurt keeps a level head. How bad could it possibly be?

The answer is far worse than he could have ever anticipated.

Blaine, being the dutiful and kind friend that he is, offers to accompany Kurt to his audition. At first Kurt turns down the offer, not wanting Blaine to have to spend however long idling in the auditorium for him, but Blaine is insistent. He knows all too well how Kurt’s nerves often get the better of him before a big performance, having someone in his corner up until the last possible moment will help him keep calm.

When Kurt steps into the lobby to see none other than Sebastian Smythe breezing through his vocal warmups, he clutches onto Blaine for dear life.

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me?!” he mutters under his breath, Blaine wincing when Kurt’s nails dig right through the thin material of his shirt and into his arm.

Kurt considers himself a generally pleasant and friendly person — but Sebastian Smythe always manages to turn him into a spiteful, vindictive ball of absolute hatred.

It started when their Movement 101 professor announced that he’d only be giving out a single A for the class. As are for excellence, he’d explained, and only one student would be worthy of an A — everyone else would make do with Bs and Cs. Kurt worked himself to the point of exhaustion for weeks in hopes that he could clinch the coveted top spot. But Sebastian Smythe skated past him and up to the top with unfair ease.

What started as petty jealousy quickly grew into a much angrier beast as the years went by. Sebastian never turned down an opportunity to go up against Kurt — whether it was for a role in a campus production, the top spot in a class, and once even snagging the last remnants of the salad bar in the cafeteria, leaving Kurt with no other option but reheated pizza.

Kurt wasn’t afraid of rising to Sebastian’s challenge, and even secured himself a handful of victories. He was able to beat Sebastian in the race for Vice President of NYADA’s LGBTQ Alliance council, and was handpicked by Carmen Thibideoux herself to perform at an alumni gala — an honor Sebastian claimed he never tried out for, but was quickly proven wrong when just a week later she thanked him for his ‘rousing’ audition in front of their entire Monologue class.

“Keep calm, just try to breathe,” Blaine coaches once he catches sight of Sebastian too, trying to ease Kurt’s hold on his arm.

“This is a goddamn nightmare,” he mumbles instead of listening to Blaine’s advice.

Kurt takes a step towards Sebastian, but Blaine manages to wriggle out of his grip and block his path. He grips Kurt’s shoulders tightly, grounding him in place and doing his best to keep Kurt’s eyes focused on him.

“Don’t let him get to you, that’s what he wants.”

Blaine takes in a deep breath, signaling for Kurt to follow his lead. Kurt sends one last glare Sebastian’s way before turning to Blaine. He begrudgingly gives in, exhaling in time with Blaine. Blaine guides Kurt through several more breath cycles, praising him when the tension in his shoulders slowly begins to ease up.

“Feeling any better?” Blaine asks after their third exhale.

Kurt opens his mouth to respond, but the room falls silent when a woman throws open the doors to the auditorium. Her heels clack on the tiled floor as she steps forward, flipping through a stack of papers on her clipboard.

“Kurt Hummel?” she calls out, all of the eyes in the room shifting to Kurt.

Kurt raises his hand in lieu of a vocal reply, not wanting his voice to waver or crack — his competition can’t know that he’s nervous. The woman nods her head towards the auditorium, beckoning with her finger before turning on her heels and heading back inside.

“Kurt, look at me,” Blaine insists, taking Kurt’s hand and squeezing until he looks away from the looming auditorium. “You’re amazing, and you’re going to blow those judges away. Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”

Blaine, as always, manages to make him feel safe and grounded. He squeezes Blaine’s hand back and lets himself forget about Sebastian. Blaine believes in him, he has a whole army of friends who are rooting for him. He can do this.

“Thank you,” he whispers, not caring that his competitors are still staring wide-eyed at him and Blaine.

With one last deep breath, he releases Blaine’s hand, and heads into the auditorium.

* * *

When Kurt learns two weeks later that he’s made it to the final round of auditions, he nearly breaks down Blaine’s bedroom door in his haste to share the exciting news. Blaine matches Kurt’s enthusiasm, pulling him in for a hug and insisting that they head out for celebratory drinks.

But, of course, the excitement is short-lived. Kurt’s two martinis in during their celebratory night on the town when he receives a text from Rachel, who insisted on spending her Friday night in the library working on her Philosophy of Theatre paper.

_Sebastian Smythe is sitting across from me at the library. Just overheard - he’s a showcase finalist too._

Kurt’s stomach sinks — he sets his drink aside as he tucks his phone away. He’s suddenly not in a very celebratory mood. It doesn’t take long for the others to pick up on his somber mood.

“Hey dude, you okay?” Sam asks, knocking his glass against the side of Kurt’s hand.

Blaine breaks off from his conversation with the bartender about ordering a round of shots for the table to listen in, shifting his chair closer to Kurt when he sees the obvious distress on his face.

“Rachel found out who the other finalist for the showcase is,” he begins, pausing just slightly for emphasis, “it’s Sebastian Smythe.”

Quinn gulps down the rest of her drink, letting out a groan. “God, that guy is the worst.”

Quinn knows full well about Kurt’s distaste for Sebastian, and had once even brushed off his hatred as dramatics — until she’d been in a class with him her junior year.

“What’s his deal?” Sam asks, glancing between Kurt and Quinn.

“He almost broke my finger during our Stage Combat midterm — just so he could look good,” Quinn answers quickly.

“He’s a gremlin of a person whose only goal in life is to make everyone in a room despise him — and he’s doing a great job of it.” Kurt takes a pause to down the last of his drink. “He also has an unfortunate case of horse teeth.” He doesn’t mean to take a jab at Sebastian’s physical appearance — he’s already insufferable enough without bringing his looks into the picture, but he can’t help it. He’s two drinks deep and he’s upset.

“He isn’t so bad,” Blaine mumbles, so low under his breath only Kurt is able to pick up what he says.

“Seriously?” Kurt snaps, turning to Blaine as though he’s sprouted a tail or a third eye. “The guy’s evil incarnate. You just haven’t spent more than five minutes with him yet,” Kurt tacks on before snapping his fingers at the bartender, gesturing for him to bring him a fresh drink. While he usually prefers to remedy despair with baked goods, alcohol will have to do for now.

“Actually,” Blaine begins, but trails off when the entire table glances up at him suspiciously.

Kurt goes rigid at Blaine’s side, fingers tightening around his empty glass.

“He came over and introduced himself while you were at your audition. He seemed… I don’t know, nice. We exchanged numbers and texted a few times. He’s been… sweet, actually,” he admits feebly, blushing bright scarlet when Quinn and Kurt exchange wary looks.

Kurt isn’t surprised that someone like Sebastian would try to worm his way over to Blaine during those few moments that he was gone. It’s just another punch Sebastian’s trying to throw at his competition.

“Well, I can assure you that he’s anything but nice. If you’re smart you’ll stay away from him,” Kurt warns icily.

He doesn’t want to make this into an argument with Blaine — he’s sure that’s exactly what Sebastian would want. But he would be lying if he said the idea of Blaine warming up to the person he despises most isn’t upsetting. He knows Sebastian will crush Blaine under the toe of his last-season shoes, the way Kurt assumes he does with everyone he encounters.

“I think I can judge people for myself. I don’t need you to do it for me,” Blaine snaps back.

An uncomfortable silence falls over the table. Sam bites his lip, twirling his straw just to give himself something to do. Quinn sits back in her chair, glancing between Kurt and Blaine.

“I’m gonna go ask the bartender where our drinks are,” she announces more loudly than necessary, pushing away from the table and walking to the opposite side of the bar.

“She might need help,” Sam mumbles, quickly following Quinn’s lead.

The moment they’re alone, Kurt shifts in his seat to face Blaine. Blaine, arms crossed, doesn’t turn to meet Kurt’s gaze, keeping his attention focused on the table instead.

“So, when were you going to tell me that you’re the President of the Sebastian Smythe fan club?” He doesn’t bother putting up any kind pretenses. Blaine has known how much Kurt despises Sebastian for _years_ — he’s sympathizing with the enemy.

“Oh come on, Kurt,” Blaine snips, throwing his hands on the table before finally turning to Kurt. “I’ve had a few pleasant conversations with a guy that you have a stupid, petty rivalry with. So what?”

“It’s not stupid,” Kurt replies indignantly. “That guy’s a borderline sociopath. He _hurt_ Quinn! He told everyone about Rachel bribing Carmen into giving her an invite to the winter showcase! He spread a rumor about me having mono just so I wouldn’t get cast in _Cabaret_ last semester!” Kurt was already flushed from the two drinks, but he’s gone full beet-red, growing angrier and angrier as he reflects on all of the terrible things Sebastian has inflicted on him and his friends over the years.

“And that’s any better than when you tricked him into showing up for his midterm on the wrong day? Or when you made him twist his ankle before your Movement final?”

Kurt goes silent. He knows what it looks like — that’s he's just as spiteful as Sebastian, but he knows there’s a difference between them. Kurt may have thrown the first stone — extending his leg just the tiniest bit during class so that Sebastian just so happened to trip over himself as their professor was critiquing their form. He’d felt guilty about it at the time, though less so when Sebastian quickly retaliated by doing the same to him nearly two weeks later.

But since then, Kurt only acts when prompted, and takes it upon himself to warn others about their unsavory classmate. But only his friends are willing to listen — Sebastian, he learns quickly, has an annoyingly positive reputation on campus, which Kurt chalks up to the common knowledge that his family is enormously wealthy. It’s frustrating, to say the least — to watch his classmates fawn over someone he knows is callous and cruel. Kurt isn’t the type to spread malicious gossip, but Sebastian always pushes him to the brink of his limits.

But Blaine takes Kurt’s silence as an admission of guilt.

“He almost failed two classes, and almost got _seriously_ hurt because of you, and I’m still friends with you — aren’t I?” Blaine raises a brow, challenging Kurt to defy him.

“It’s different!” is all Kurt can come up with in his defense, throwing his hands up in frustration before storming away from the table.

It’s childish, he knows that. He hates being proven wrong, and he knows that he has no right to dictate who Blaine does or doesn’t talk to. But Blaine is his best friend — the one person in New York City that he’s opened himself up to fully, no holds barred. He’s never been as vulnerable with another person as he’s been with Blaine, and now he’s defending the one person that’s actively tried to ruin everything Kurt has worked for at NYADA.

They’ve had arguments before, Kurt has stormed away before. But Blaine always follows after him. They always find their way back to each other. Kurt cranes his neck for the sound of Blaine coming after him as he steps out onto the sidewalk, waiting for the signature pull of Blaine’s arms around his shoulders, bringing him in for a hug. But there’s nothing — just the sounds of the city. He peeks over his shoulder, but Blaine isn’t there waiting behind him.

He paces along the sidewalk outside of the bar until he feels levelheaded again. His heart slows and his senses are overrun by animosity and jealousy and _hurt_. He’s ready to admit that he knows he’s wrong, too. He’s ready to say he’s sorry and plead his case to Blaine one more time, this time in a calm and collected manner. He knows he can’t stop Blaine from talking to Sebastian if that’s what he wants, but he can at least make a valid case as to why it would bother him.

Kurt knows he has a penchant for dramatics, everyone at NYADA does, but this is more than just drama for the sake of drama. Sebastian has always been more than just an annoying classmate, and occasional rival. He’s a weight on Kurt’s shoulders, a pit in his stomach, and every interaction they have takes a toll on him that he’s never found the right words to describe. But he’ll try to find those words now to explain it to Blaine.

When he finally heads back into the bar, Quinn and Sam have returned to their table — fresh drinks in hand — but Blaine’s seat is left vacant.

“Did Blaine go to the bathroom?” Kurt asks as he slides back into his seat. Having Quinn and Sam back as an audience will be helpful, they’ll help keep him under control as he explains his side of the matter to Blaine once he’s back.

Quinn and Sam look at one another awkwardly, their cheeks flushed as they turn back to face Kurt.

“He, uh… he headed back to the apartment,” Sam confesses carefully, wincing on instinct when Kurt sits up ramrod straight at the news.

“He said he wasn’t feeling well,” Quinn tacks on, hoping it’ll soften the blow.

But the damage has already been done.

* * *

It’s their first _real_ fight. A no-talking, avoiding-one-another-at-all-costs level fight. Kurt can’t remember the last time he went twenty-four hours without talking to Blaine. Blaine’s bedroom door has remained locked since that night at the bar, and in time Kurt begins to lock his door too. He’d been ready to admit that he’d overreacted, but now Blaine’s the one who’s taking things too far. It’s childish, really, Kurt thinks to himself when he realizes Blaine is purposefully running late to class one morning so that he can avoid running into Kurt in the kitchen.

Sam does what he can to encourage his roommates to reconcile, even trying to concoct a _Parent Trap_ inspired plan to force the two to reunite. Quinn and Rachel try appealing to both Kurt and Blaine, but after a week, neither of them are willing to budge. Blaine won’t talk to Kurt until Kurt admits that he was wrong, and Kurt won’t apologize until Blaine is willing to hear him out face to face.

It’s petty, and stupid, and hurts more than Kurt would have ever anticipated. He doesn’t realize just how lonely his life is without Blaine until he doesn’t have him anymore. When his anxieties and worries about his upcoming audition consume him and throw him into a dark place, there’s no one by his side, holding his hand, whispering against his skin that everything will be okay.

The morning of his audition, he feels sick to his stomach — so sick he worries he won’t be able to go to the audition at all. He tries to run through his usual vocal warmups, but his voice cracks and wobbles to the point that he gives up in frustration. His hands won’t stop shaking, and he can’t focus on anything for longer than a couple of seconds. The cynic in him wonders if this was Sebastian’s plan all along — flirting with Blaine to drive a wedge between them and send him into a panic. While the rational part of him knows that can’t be true, it’s working regardless.

He walks himself through a meditation exercise, doing what he can to clear his mind and calm his senses — but the ticking of the clock in his bedroom drives him insane. When he finally calms himself down enough to exit his bedroom and head for his audition, he only has roughly 20 minutes to get across campus. In his mad dash to get out the door, he almost doesn’t notice the note taped to his door. He snatches it on his way out, assuming it’s just another note from Sam apologizing for eating some of his Greek yogurt. He scans the note as he pulls on his jacket, freezing with his arm half into a sleeve when he realizes it’s from Blaine.

_Good luck today. You’re going to be amazing. I wish I could be there to tell you this in person, but I have a meeting with my advisor. I’ll see you tonight - to celebrate you, and to tell you that I’m sorry. - Blaine_

If he weren’t half stuck in his jacket he would leap for joy. It’s the greatest sense of relief he’s ever felt in his life. All of that weight and doubt and insecurity that weighed down on his shoulders vanishes with the simple knowledge that he and Blaine are going to be okay. That even if he fails today, he’ll have his best friend to come home to. He shrugs on his coat and quickly pulls his phone out of his pocket, tapping out a quick message to Blaine.

_Thank you. I’m sorry too. See you tonight._

He doesn’t have time to type out much more than that — groaning when he catches sight of the time. He tucks his phone away, and races as quickly as he can (without breaking into too intense of a sweat) to the practice rooms where June and her assistant are waiting for him.

He uses the few minutes of silence as he treks across campus to plan out what exactly he wants to say to Blaine tonight. He’d started dozens of texts and Facebook messages and letters to Blaine during their few days of estrangement, but he could never find the right words to capture the enormity of what he wanted to say.

He wants to tell him the truth about why he overreacted — that it was more than just the thought of Sebastian flirting with him that made him upset. There were two things that had upset him about the entire ordeal. There was the Sebastian of it all, naturally — the idea of Blaine getting close to the one person that Kurt has ever openly despised. And there was the fact that he was flirting with Blaine.

Kurt took the time to think about the other boys that have walked up to Blaine at bars or parties or on campus — about the rage that boiled beneath his skin as he watched Blaine blush and smile. Sure, the fact that it was Sebastian ignited his anger from 0 to 100 in almost no time at all, but he can see now that this is something much bigger than just Sebastian Smythe.

Their story is a story of almosts. Almost kisses while tipsy at a cast party, wondering what it would be like to kiss your best friend. Almost confessions at three in the morning on New Year’s Eve, huddled together on a strangers rooftop, looking at the stars and making unspoken resolutions. Almost something more, founded on years of longing.

Every time Kurt feels like he’s ready to be honest with Blaine about how he feels something shifts and he loses that courage. There’s always something — a new boyfriend, or a break up, or a rift amongst their friend group. It never feels like the right time to change the course of their relationship.

But now he wants to tell Blaine everything. He wants to tell Blaine that he _is_ everything. A best friend, a confidant, the greatest most selfless person he knows. That he’s beautiful, and compassionate, and wonderful, and that Kurt will never know what he did to deserve someone like him in his life. That he’s seen how empty and lonely his life can be when Blaine’s not in it — and he never wants to lose him again. He wants to tell Blaine that he loves him.

Suddenly the showcase doesn’t matter — June Dalloway and Sebastian Smythe don’t matter. After almost four years, Kurt’s finally found the courage within himself to be open and honest with Blaine. Deep down, he’s terrified, but it’s outweighed by an enormous sense of hope — hope that things between them will finally change the way he’s hoped that they would for years.

He enters the building with a spring in his step and a smile on his face, practically gliding towards the basement practice rooms. He’s too caught up in his own thoughts to hear the soft clack of shoes on the floor behind him, just barely catching the sound of his name over his shoulder.

And then everything goes red and black. He’s hit with a wave of something cold and brittle and harsh. The force of it knocks him down to the ground, his head smacking against the unforgiving floor. He doesn’t have long to focus on the pain in his head, as his skin ignites mere seconds later. Everything feels so cold but his skin is fire hot and it _burns._ He breathes heavily, panting and struggling for breath as he rubs fruitlessly at his eyes — giving in and crying out in pain when everything he does just makes the stinging that much worse. It feels like days go by until someone takes him by the arm, lifting him off of the ground and attempting to soothe him while assessing the damage and calling out for help.

It happens in a matter of seconds, and it all feels like a blur as a crowd gathers around him, scrambling to call the paramedics. It’s disorienting and confusing, and he has no idea what was done to him. But he’s very confident he knows who did it.

* * *

_** November 2020 ** _

Much like with every argument they’ve ever had, there comes a point when Kurt finally begins to feel ready to talk to Blaine again. Unlike before, he’s not ready to admit that he was wrong — because he’s not wrong. Compromising on things he once thought were important for someone he genuinely loves isn’t wrong — but he’s ready to hear Blaine out. He knows Blaine well enough to know that he’s probably overthinking things just as much as he is. He can only imagine how many texts Blaine has composed and discarded over the now three weeks they’ve gone without speaking.

Kurt doesn’t allow himself to think that Blaine hasn’t composed any messages — that he’s been continuing on with his life as though nothing’s happened between them. He can’t — because that line of thinking will break him. Entertaining the possibility that Blaine truly doesn’t need him anymore is scarier than he cares to admit. He doesn’t want to dwell on the possibility of a life without Blaine.

When Adam texts him Tuesday morning that he won’t be stopping by Kurt’s place after work, Kurt makes up a plan. He’ll text Blaine. Or call him. Or maybe FaceTime. And they’ll talk, _really_ talk about all of the things they’ve been refused to talk about for months now. And then maybe, tomorrow morning he’ll have his best friend back again.

What Kurt doesn’t anticipate is Sebastian.

Getting stopped on his way to work isn’t something Kurt has become totally accustomed to just yet. He always figures that the few eager fans who linger around the stage door hours before curtain are there to see the stars — they won’t pay him, an understudy, much mind, but the power of the Broadway community continually surprises him. There’s a small crowd assembled by the stagedoor as he arrives for their first show of the week. He waves to a few of the stage door regulars before heading towards the door. His hand freezes around the handle when he hears an unfortunately familiar voice call out his name.

He doesn’t need to turn around to know that it’s Sebastian. He drops his hand, crossing his arms, but doesn’t bother turning to face his unwelcome visitor.

“What do you want?”

He rolls his eyes at Sebastian’s signature chuckle. He can perfectly picture the smug smirk he must be wearing. “So much kindness for your best friend’s fiancé, huh?”

Kurt grits his teeth and digs his fingers into his arms, wishing they were anywhere but his place of work so he could finally throw a punch at Sebastian’s stupid meerkat face. He turns on his heels, jaw set and unmoving, dragging Sebastian by the arm across the street — a safe enough distance away from the small stage door crowd.

“I don’t like you,” he begins, his tone clipped and concise. “I’ve never liked you, and I’m not going to pretend that I like you just because you’re engaged to Blaine.”

It’s an unspoken sentiment between the two of them. Kurt has put up with Sebastian from the moment he entered Blaine’s life, but he’s never made an effort to extend any kindness towards him. People like Sebastian don’t deserve kindness — he already barely deserves tolerance.

“Harsh,” Sebastian replies, putting his hands up in surrender, but Kurt doesn’t buy it. No matter how many years it’s been since NYADA, he’ll always have his guard up around Sebastian. “I’m just here on Blaine’s behalf,” he explains, slowly lowering his hands down to his sides.

Kurt’s brows furrow — he doesn’t believe that for a second. Blaine knows as well as anyone that he and Sebastian can’t stand each other. If he had any common sense, he’d know to send anyone other than Sebastian to extend the white flag.

“Blaine asked you to come talk to me?” he snaps, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from Sebastian anyway.

“Not exactly,” he shrugs. “He’s been moping around for the past two weeks, and he finally opened up and told me that you two had some kind of disagreement.”

The knowledge that Blaine didn’t go to Sebastian for comfort in the aftermath of their argument gives Kurt a vindictive sort of pleasure. But he’s at least relieved that Sebastian doesn’t know more of the details of why they had their falling out — the last thing he needs is someone like Sebastian armed with the kind of knowledge that could put an end to Kurt and Blaine’s friendship for good.

“We did. And that disagreement doesn’t involve you, so I don’t see why you’re here.”

“I’m here to ask you, politely, to make amends with my fiancé,” he replies.

Kurt’s hatred grows exponentially in the few seconds it takes Sebastian to reply. He hates that smug, obnoxious way he refuses to call Blaine by his name, using the term “fiancé” because he knows it’ll get under Kurt’s skin. He hates how innocent he’s painting himself out to be — the diligent partner doing his best to make Blaine happy. He hates how convincing Sebastian might sound to anyone but Kurt. As much as he dislikes Sebastian, he has to admit that he’s a talented performer. A talented yet cowardly performer who had to rely on vengeance to prove that he was the best. It’s ironic, really, that Sebastian wound up abandoning his performance career for law school. He’s the biggest phony Kurt’s ever had the displeasure of meeting.

“Why didn’t your _fiancé_ come here and ask me that himself?” Kurt replies, putting as much contempt as he can into that precious word Sebastian loves so much.

“Because he thinks that you don’t want to see him,” he replies as though it’s obvious.

“But he thought I’d want to see you instead?”

Sebastian rolls his eyes — which makes Kurt’s blood boil to the point that he’s mere seconds from letting his instincts take over and finally lay into Sebastian the way he’s wanted to for years.

“Look, I’m only here because Blaine’s been walking around like a kicked puppy for days and people are starting to get concerned. Me included. He won’t talk to me about whatever happened between you two, so can you two please put whatever disagreement about the Real Housewives you had to bed and just make up?”

Kurt lets out a humorless laugh — it’s his turn to roll his eyes this time. “Interesting how you wanted me out of the picture so badly, and now here you are. You got your wish. You can have Blaine all to yourself now — why don’t you leave me alone, and learn how to communicate with your future husband?”

He doesn’t bother waiting for Sebastian to reply, there’s nothing else Sebastian could say to make him want to continue engaging in this conversation. Instead, he turns and yanks the stage door open so roughly the muscles in his arm burn as he storms into the theatre — all thoughts of reaching out to Blaine to make peace fade away, drowned out by memories of a wound he’d thought had healed over years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! HALFWAY THERE FOLKS WOO!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as per usual, my beta, Adri's, commentary is beyond invaluable <3

_** April 2016 ** _

The last thing Kurt remembers is a professor cradling his head in their lap, running delicate, careful fingers along his skin — trying to discern if all of the harsh red coating his skin is blood or something less sinister. When he wakes up, the first thing he notices is that the world suddenly seems smaller. He doesn’t understand it at first — why only a small sliver of the sounds and sensations around him are slowly coming into view as he blinks himself awake. His hands fly up to his face the moment control of his limbs returns, still trying to free himself from that fire-hot burn.

The second thing Kurt notices is the texture of his skin. The once smooth, pristine slope of his cheek is cracked and cold to the touch. It feels harsh, tough as leather — the type of qualities he feared so intensely that he was able to excuse spending hundreds of dollars on his skincare routine. He wants to cry. He doesn’t understand what’s going on or why the world is still such a huge blur, and all he wants is to be back home in his bed.

There’s a voice at his side, a hand on his arm, gentle and warm. By the time he’s able to process what the voice is saying, tears are streaming freely down his cheek — the salt stinging his skin.

“Kurt, please calm down, everything’s going to be okay,” Blaine whispers against Kurt’s hair, his hand running down along his arm to grasp loosely at his hand.

“Blaine,” Kurt sputters out, body heaving with relief. He turns his head, letting out a sob when Blaine comes into view — blurred at the edges, shrouded in darkness. “Blaine, I can’t see,” he chokes out, lifting his hand to rub at his right eye, the eye that he can vaguely see out of, but Blaine stops him.

“I know, I know,” he soothes, patting Kurt’s hand as he lays it back down at his side. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

Kurt tries his best, sniffling and choking on his own breath as he struggles to inhale or exhale without breaking down. But Blaine is there, encouraging him to start over again each time, taking steady breaths beside him until he’s able to do it on his own.

“There was an accident,” Blaine begins once Kurt has relaxed a bit, leaning back against the pillows behind him. “You were on your way to your audition when you got hit with… well, we’re not really sure what it was exactly. It was like a slushie, but it had… I-I think it was rock salt in it, I’m sorry I’m not really sure,” Blaine says, stumbling over himself and losing his calm composure for a fraction of a second, sniffling harshly before continuing. “One of the dance professors found you… lying on the g-ground, a-and called for an ambulance. A guy from my Theory class was there — he recognized you as my roommate, so he called me. I came as soon as I found out. Sam was here earlier too, but he had to head back to campus for work.” Blaine squeezes Kurt’s hand as he finishes, giving Kurt space to take everything in.

Kurt breaks his gaze away from Blaine, finally beginning to take in their surroundings. The dingy chair, Blaine’s jacket draped across the arm. The steady hum and beep from the machine on his left. The tubes weaving through his fingers and up his arm.

“We’re at the hospital?” Kurt asks, though he’s almost confident that they are.

Blaine nods, looking over his shoulder. “The nurse left a few minutes ago, I can probably go find her if you want to—”

“Don’t leave!” Kurt begs, clutching onto Blaine’s arm as tightly as he can, keeping him in place. “Please,” he adds, his voice cracking as a fresh wave of tears brim at the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Blaine assures quickly, extending his foot and dragging his chair in. He settles back down, never releasing his hold on Kurt’s hand. “I called your dad,” he says once he’s sat back down and Kurt’s breathing has slowed. “He couldn’t get a flight out until tomorrow, he’ll probably come straight here after he lands.”

Kurt nods. While a part of him feels guilty for burdening his dad and making him drop everything to fly to New York, a larger part just feels comforted by the thought of having his dad with him right now.

“I grabbed some of your stuff before I headed over — your toothbrush and some of your skincare stuff, but the nurse said you probably shouldn’t use any of these for awhile,” Blaine explains, nodding his head towards his backpack, propped up in the corner.

Kurt tentatively shifts his hand out of Blaine’s grip, his fingers twitching as he resists the urge to reach up and run his fingers over his skin again. “Can I see what I look like?” he asks quietly, barely a whisper. He wants to assess the damage now — get the shock of it out of the way.

Blaine stiffens, clasping his hands together as he glances around the room. “I, uh… I-I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” he confesses shyly. He flies out of his seat after Kurt’s lips tug down into a frown, carefully propping himself up on the edge of Kurt’s bed, down by his feet. “I’ll describe you instead,” he proposes with a smile.

Kurt is skeptical — he’s not sure what Blaine is getting at exactly, but he doesn’t protest.

“So, they gave you an eyepatch,” Blaine begins. Kurt’s nose wrinkles, reaching up to prod at his left eye, his fingers meeting soft fabric. Well, that certainly explains some things. “It’s very pirate chic,” Blaine adds, chuckling softly. “I think you’d approve. The doctors think you had an allergic reaction to something, either the salt or the dye in the slushie. So, your skin’s a little… rough. Nothing you can’t fix with one of those serums you had shipped from France.”

Kurt bites his lip, his skin warming as he realizes just how awful he must look. Blaine reaches out and takes his hand again before continuing.

“But, the eyepatch really brings out the color of your eyes… well, eye. They’re usually either blue or green, but they’re this cool blend of both today. It’s really beautiful. Not that your eyes aren’t usually beautiful!” he tacks on quickly, Kurt giggling. “You're always beautiful.”

Blaine says it as though it’s the most casual thing in the world, as if it’s something he’s said hundreds of times before. He doesn’t even notice when Kurt’s breath hitches, he just keeps smiling, not knowing how much weight those three words hold.

“I love you,” Kurt says without even thinking.

Another thing Kurt remembers is that before everything happened, he was thinking about Blaine. Thinking about telling Blaine that he loves him. It may not be the perfect moment — he’s aching all over and he’s pretty sure he’s been pumped full of a dozen different pain killers — but he can’t wait any longer. He can’t continue to sit idly by and watch this beautiful, stunning, wonderful man float through his life without telling him that he thinks he’s everything.

Blaine smiles fondly at him — perhaps a bit patronizingly, Kurt worries. He doesn’t give Kurt any time to panic, he pats Kurt’s hand and places a soft kiss to his knuckles.

“I love you too,” he whispers.

And that’s it. That’s all it takes, a little bit of will, and the truth is out. Kurt can hardly breathe and Blaine still looks as calm as ever. He waits for something to shift, for something to feel different — but nothing changes. He wants Blaine to lean forward and kiss him or for the strength to come to him to do it himself. He can understand Blaine’s reluctance, he must look a wreck and Blaine might worry about hurting him. Or maybe he doesn’t want to kiss him, not yet. Maybe he wants to wait.

But Kurt doesn’t want to wait anymore.

“I want—”

But he doesn’t get to finish. A nurse comes barreling into the room, poking at machines and flipping through her clipboard at top speed. She shoos Blaine away from the edge of the bed, reprimanding him as she takes Kurt’s pulse. Blaine sheepishly returns to his seat, releasing his hold on Kurt’s hand in the process.

The nurse flits about, poking and prodding Kurt as she rambles on at top speed. Her words are so rapid fire Kurt swears she’s speaking another language, shaking his head and looking to Blaine pleadingly when he realizes she’s asking him a question.

“Uh, I think he just wants to rest for a little bit, if that’s alright?” Blaine supplies, Kurt nodding his head in approval.

The nurse adjusts Kurt’s pillows slightly and takes one last look at the machines surrounding his head before shuttling off to her next patient.

“She’s very sweet but… a lot to handle,” Blaine explains once she’s out of earshot. “Sebastian said she’s one of the best in the city though, so you’ll be in good hands,” he assures, patting Kurt’s hand with a smile.

Kurt’s overcome by a wave of nausea at the mere mention of Sebastian’s name. All of the unsavory parts of the day begin to come back to him — the showcase, his audition, the sneaking suspicion that Sebastian was the one who threw that burning slushie in his face.

“Sebastian?” is all Kurt’s able to choke out, tensing up as though he’ll make a sudden appearance.

Blaine shifts nervously, eyes falling down to his interlocked fingers atop his knee. “I, uh… we were at lunch together, when I found out. His dad has some connections with some of the higher ups here, he said he would see what he could do to make sure you get the best care.”

Whatever else Blaine says is lost on him. His vision tunnels and the room spins and Kurt wishes so, so desperately that the nurse gave him something to fall asleep — that he’ll wake up and this all will have been a dream. He can’t believe how stupid he was — to think that Blaine would love him, _really_ love him. Three years of misreading signs and signals have all built up to this — to Blaine in the arms of the person that Kurt hates most.

The urge to cry returns, but this time he doesn’t stop it — he lets himself sob, cutting off whatever Blaine was saying. Probably something about Sebastian, something about how wonderful perfect, stupid Sebastian is. He doesn’t care that he cuts Blaine off, he doesn't want to hear anything anymore. He just wants to go back to sleep and wake up and start all over again. No ‘I love yous’ and no tears — just him and Blaine, back where they began.

Blaine remains silent as he wraps his arms around Kurt and holds him close, letting him cry until he’s worn himself out. He presses a soft kiss to his forehead as he settles back against the pillows, on the brink of sleep. It feels worse than the sting of the ice — it feels like humiliation and heartbreak and despair all pressed into the shape of Blaine’s lips, lips he’s wanted to feel on his for years and years.

“Go to sleep, I’ll still be here when you wake up,” Blaine promises as Kurt closes his eyes.

He knows Blaine will make good on his promise, that he’ll still be at his side when he wakes — but he wishes he wouldn’t. He wishes that he would break his promise. Just this once.

* * *

Despite the combination of painkillers pumping into him every hour, Kurt’s mind refuses to shut down and let him fall asleep. Even while asleep he’s plagued by Sebastian, by dreams of the incident all over again, dreams of watching Sebastian’s final audition showcase without being able to speak, watching silently as he accepts the invitation to perform from June herself — without the chance to speak up for himself. He wakes up briefly, clutching his stomach as he curls into a ball and starts sobbing again — this time letting himself mourn the loss of the showcase, something that seems so petty and stupid to be upset about right now, but still hurts regardless.

When Kurt wakes up for a second time, it’s to his dad stomping into the room in a whirlwind of activity. Nurses chase after him, trying to keep him from actually entering the room, but he pushes right past all of them.

“He’s my son goddammit, I don’t need permission to see him!” he shouts at them, effectively shutting them all up.

Kurt sits up slightly, his joints aching in protest. Blaine, who had fallen asleep in his seat at Kurt’s bedside, startles awake at the sound of the commotion.

“Kurt,” Burt chokes out, rushing to his son’s side, letting his suitcase and coat fall to the ground. “How’re you feeling, bud?” he asks as he pulls Kurt into a hug, subtly assessing the damage when he’s sure Kurt isn’t looking.

“M’okay,” he chokes out, biting back the latest round of tears at the mere sight of his dad. “Tired,” he mumbles as his dad lets him go, collapsing back against the pillows.

“One of the doctors said something about surgery, I’m sorry I didn’t catch anything else — they said they could only talk about that kind of stuff with you,” Blaine explains apologetically.

Burt shoots Blaine an appreciative smile, slapping a hand down on his shoulder. “Thank you for being here, Blaine. Knowing you were with Kurt made things a little bit easier on my nerves.”

Blaine beams, nodding at Burt before turning back to Kurt with a grin. His smile falters as he watches Kurt’s lips tug into a deep frown. He opens his mouth, but Burt beats him to it.

“How does something like this even happen? What goes on at these performing arts schools that you guys are just running into slushies?” Burt asks as he takes another look at Kurt’s harsh, reddened skin.

“None of the professors saw what happened. Unless… Kurt, do you remember anything?” Blaine asks delicately.

This is his chance to put Sebastian in his place. To finally show everyone else at NYADA that Sebastian is just as awful as Kurt has always painted him to be. It may also be his last chance to put an end to things with Sebastian and Blaine before they can bloom into something more. He can’t imagine a world in which Blaine would pursue things further with Sebastian, knowing that he’d gone out of his way to hurt his best friend, all for the glory of a stupid showcase.

He had been so confident that Sebastian was behind the rock salt slushie — he can’t think of why anyone else would want to hurt him. But Blaine had said he was with Sebastian when he’d found out about the incident. Sebastian may be talented, but he doesn’t think it would be humanly possible for Sebastian to throw a slushie at him in the student center, and somehow make it to lunch with Blaine before he got the call.

He wouldn’t put it past Sebastian to have personal minions on call to do his more nefarious bidding — he’s a cartoon villain in every respect. But he can acknowledge how insane that must sound, accusing a college student of taking the less salacious version of a hit out on him.

More importantly, he thinks about what it would mean if they don’t believe him. Or if it wasn’t Sebastian after all. He thinks about the past week — how lonely he felt without Blaine, how empty his once-bright world had seemed without him. He doesn’t want to think about having to go any longer without his best friend — even if it means he has to abandon the part of him that’s completely, hopelessly, devotedly in love with Blaine. He doesn’t think his heart could bear another day without him, even if it means having to break his heart in two, teaching himself how to breathe in a world where he isn’t in love with Blaine.

“No, I don’t remember anything,” he mutters, shaking his head.

He’d rather have Blaine as his best friend than not have him at all.

* * *

_** November - December 2020 ** _

Rachel clears her throat, calling the attention of the table back to her. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice — it just seemed easier to hash all of this out in person,” she explains to the group.

Tina and Quinn nod in agreement — but the mysterious woman Quinn has brought along with her looks skeptical. Rachel straightens out under the woman’s critical gaze, sitting up taller and flipping her hair over her shoulder — not letting the uninvited stranger’s immense beauty and judgemental gaze frazzle her.

“I was able to touch base with some of the Warblers,” Rachel continues on. “Five of them were invited to Blaine’s engagement party, but only three of them will be able to make it. If we want to keep things even at least three of us will have to go to Kurt’s party, and we can split the difference from there.”

She opens it up to the table. It’s a difficult topic to navigate, hence her suggestion that they work things out over lunch. She’d been elated when she’d received the invitation for Blaine and Sebastian’s engagement party in the mail earlier that month — if a little surprised that they were still having one so late into their engagement. It’s a blessing in disguise that she didn’t give in to her instincts to text Blaine that she’d be there with bells on the moment the invitation arrived — she’d wanted to double check her planner before committing. That elation quickly melted into horror when she realized she’d already pencilled in Kurt and Adam’s engagement party for that very same afternoon.

“This is kind of insane,” Tina observes, stirring her iced coffee absentmindedly. “What’re the odds that they’d have their engagement parties on the same day?”

Sam blows a raspberry as he shrugs. “They’ve always had this weird psychic kind of connection. When we lived together senior year they would just like… talk to each other with their minds sometimes? Super spooky,” he says with wide eyes, ignoring the suspicious look the mystery woman sends his way.

“There are only so many weekends in December where everyone will still be in the city,” Quinn offers with a shrug.

“Kurt asked me to be his maid of honor after, well… everything with Blaine fell through.” Rachel pauses, allowing time for a brief moment of silence for the disintegration of Kurt and Blaine’s friendship — a disintegration that has put more of a strain on their mutual friends than they’ll likely ever know. “I think he’d skin me alive if I missed his party,” she explains, Tina shooting her a sympathetic smile.

“Technically Blaine was my friend first, so I feel like I owe it to the guy to go to his party,” Sam says. No one acknowledges the underlying tension between Sam and Kurt’s best friend, Mercedes, who has already assured their group chat that she’s RSVPed yes for Kurt’s party. Their break up just before she moved out to LA had been a fountain of gossip for months.

“I can go to Kurt’s party — Blaine’s brother kind of freaks me out,” Tina says with a shudder.

“Alright, you guys are going about this all wrong,” the uninvited woman interrupts, slamming her hands down on the table.

Quinn blushes, reaching out quickly to pull the woman’s hands off of the table, whispering something to her out of the corner of her mouth, but she quickly rebuffs her. “No, what you all need is some common sense!” she protests before turning back to the table. “Seriously. This isn’t a Bond level mission, it’s just an engagement party.”

Rachel’s at her wits end with their uninvited guest, huffing as she crosses her arms and commences her signature Rachel Berry staredown.

“And just who _are_ you anyway? I don’t remember including you on our email chain,” she snaps, making sure to send an angry glare Quinn’s way too.

The woman smirks smugly, folding her hands in front of her. “I’m Quinn’s significantly better half. She brought me along because she thought you all might need an outsider’s perspective, and would you look at that? You do.”

Tina and Sam do very little to hide their shock as they look from Quinn to her partner in crime to Rachel and back again. Quinn has always been the private type when it comes to her relationships — especially in the aftermath of her dumpster fire of a fling with Brody Weston her freshman year. But this woman, all spitfire and sharp nails, is certainly not what they would have pegged as Quinn’s type. But Rachel remains unphased — girlfriend or not, she’s not going to let this person trample over her meeting.

“We’re all just so personally involved in this that I thought Santana might be able to give us an unbiased perspective,” Quinn interjects, resting her hand on top of Santana’s.

Rachel doesn’t look too convinced, she’s not sure why Quinn felt the need to bring an outsider to their very private discussion about a very private matter. Santana doesn’t know their friend group, and she certainly doesn’t know Kurt or Blaine. What kind of help could she possibly be?

“What do you think we should do?” Tina asks, yelping when Rachel shoves her elbow into her ribcage.

“Thank you for asking,” Santana replies with sarcastic sweetness. “First, you all RSVP yes to both of their parties, with the exception of two of you,” she begins, ignoring the wary looks being sent her way. “You have your tent poles, one person per party who’ll stay the entire time. Trouty Mouth, you can be Blaine’s tentpole,” she says, pointing to Sam. “And Man Hands will be Kurt’s tentpole.” Tina and Sam have to physically restrain Rachel from lunging at Santana when she points directly at her with a taunting smile.

“The rest of you split your time between each party. Find a reason to leave early or come late, make your appearances, eat some shitty hors d'oeuvre, do the Cha Cha Slide, move on to the next party. Tent poles, you keep Kurt and Blaine from getting suspicious. Bam, problem solved.” Santana wipes off her hand and pats herself on the back for a job well done as she settles back into her seat.

“And _why_ exactly do you think that either of them would believe that so many of us need to leave their parties early?” Rachel retorts, crossing her arms in an attempt to keep herself under control.

Santana scoffs. “Didn’t you all let your parents spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on bootleg Juilliard? Dust off your fancy acting degrees and put them to work.”

“Actually, I took out student loans,” Sam points out, but it’s drowned out by Rachel slamming her glass down on the table.

“Alright, I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t get to just show up to our _private_ gathering and act like you’re any better than us. Your ‘plan’ is unnecessarily trivial, and we’re fully capable of coming up with a solution to this situation on our own,” she shouts just loud enough to arouse the attention of the tables surrounding them. Quinn mouths a ‘she’s fine, everything’s fine’ to their waiter when he shoots their table a dirty look.

“Actually, I think she’s right…” Tina says nervously, wincing when Rachel turns to glare at her.

“Seriously?” Rachel whispers through gritted teeth.

Tina shrugs nervously, scooching her chair an inch or two away from Rachel. “They’re both our friends. Any of us RSVPing no to either party is probably going to hurt them more than us saying we have to duck out early. Sure, it’s more work for us — but if it means we can spare Kurt and Blaine’s feelings, then shouldn’t we at least try?”

Rachel looks as though she’s seconds from blowing a fuse as the rest of the table nods in agreement with Tina.

“You’re welcome,” Santana sings victoriously.

* * *

Much to Rachel’s displeasure, Santana’s plan kicks off without a hitch. Quinn and Tina RSVP yes to both of their engagement parties, with the added note that they’ll only be able to be there for a few hours, which doesn’t bother either Kurt or Blaine. They spend hours crafting their excuses — Quinn’s being that her mom is in town, and Tina’s that she wasn’t able to get out of her usual Saturday morning shift at work. They’re prepared with elaborate backstories to explain themselves, but Kurt and Blaine are just happy to have them join for any amount of time.

Quinn and Tina take the added precaution of blocking both of the boys on all forms of social media for the day, upon Santana’s suggestion — on the off chance that someone tags them in a story or a post at either party. Sam and Rachel agree to hold down the forts at their respective parties — in charge of damage control should anything go wrong.

They all hold on to the hope that Kurt and Blaine will reconcile in the intervening three weeks until their parties, but they all know how stubborn both boys can be. They take some action upon themselves — doing their best to arrange meetings that’ll force the boys to meet up face to face again, but something always interferes. Sebastian needs Blaine to stay home and wait for the plumber or Kurt has a wedding cake tasting and it’s the only available slot for the next six months.

Their frustrations with both of their friends have steadily grown over the intervening weeks. They’d been understanding at first — disagreements with close friends are never easy. But at this point they’re all in agreement that the boys are just being ridiculous.

When the eve of the parties arrives and neither of the boys are back in each other’s corners yet, all they can do is hope for the best.

At first, all goes well. Quinn and Santana start the afternoon off at Kurt’s party in the East Village, while Tina treks from her Bushwick apartment up to the Upper West Side for Blaine’s. Much like the rest of the group, Kurt is wary of Santana within minutes of being introduced to her — though one can’t blame him, he’d overheard her calling him Tickle Me Dough Face before he’d even officially met her.

Kurt spends the majority of the party glued to Adam’s side, letting himself be pulled in for steamy kisses in between shouts of congratulations. Seeing her best friend pink-cheeked and giggling like a teenager warms Rachel’s resolve when it comes to her thoughts on the engagement itself. She hadn’t been completely convinced that Kurt accepting Adam’s proposal was a wise decision — and she still isn’t, if she’s being honest with herself. She’d only met Adam a handful of times before he was suddenly being introduced to her as Kurt’s fiancé. But Kurt seems happy, truly happy — and she can’t fault him for wanting that, even if it’s with a man whose intentions she finds… questionable.

On the opposite side of the city, Blaine is less enthused by his own celebration of love. Tina notes in their groupchat that she hasn’t actually seen Sebastian and Blaine spend more than five minutes together in the two hours since she’d arrived. In fact, Sam adds, Sebastian has spent far more time at the bar than he has with his fiancé. Tina resists the urge to record Sebastian as he stumbles onto the dancefloor to join his high school lacrosse buddies in an overenthusiastic rendition of _Come on Eileen,_ Blaine watching with obvious concern from across the room.

In the end, their perfect plan falls to pieces in a matter of seconds — and through no fault of their own. It’s an oversight that seems obvious in retrospect, but would have been totally out of their control regardless.

Rachel has had one too many glasses of champagne and is leaning on Kurt a little harder than she should when he suddenly freezes, his knuckles bone white as though he wants to crush his phone in his hand.

“What’s the matter?” Rachel slurs out, sobering up in record time when she looks down at Kurt’s phone screen.

An Instagram post from 17 minutes ago — Rachel vaguely recognizes the poster as one of Blaine’s friends from Dalton. It’s a photo of the Warblers, laughing and having the time of their lives as they toast to Blaine and his engagement — Sam and Tina unknowingly lingering in the background.

“Blaine’s having an engagement party? Today?” Kurt chokes out, eyes fixed on his phone even after his screen has gone dark.

“Kurt,” Rachel begins, but he’s off before she can stop him.

She stumbles over herself, struggling to catch up to him as he crosses the dance floor in record speed. She groans, stopping to quickly kick off her heels before chasing after him. But she’s too late.

Quinn had thought she was home free as she pulled on her coat, preparing to make the trek across town to finish off the night at Blaine’s party. She loops her arm through Santana’s, mere feet from the door when a hand grips her shoulder and whips her around.

“What the hell?!” Santana snaps, nearly tripping over herself as she’s tugged along with Quinn, both of them going numb at the sight of Kurt, near tears, in front of them.

“You’re going to Blaine’s party - aren’t you?” he asks, his voice laced with disappointment as opposed to anger.

“W-what?” Quinn replies, choosing to play dumb to at least buy her some time.

Rachel appears at Kurt’s side moments later, surprisingly out of breath from such a short journey. “Kurt, we didn’t—”

“Is he or is he not having his fucking engagement party today?!” Kurt shouts, loudly enough that if the DJ wasn’t blasting the latest Lady Gaga single, he would have the attention of all of his guests.

The girls wince at the volume and tone of his voice, glancing nervously amongst themselves as they look for the right answer. They know there isn’t one, but maybe there’s something they can say that’ll at least calm Kurt down a bit.

“He probably didn’t know that you were having yours today,” Quinn provides, Rachel nodding in agreement. Santana keeps her mouth shut, deciding to keep herself out of someone else’s drama for once.

“Where is it?” Kurt asks, his question directed at Quinn this time.

Quinn stutters, feigning confusion as she looks to Rachel for back up, but Kurt can’t be fooled. “Where is his party Quinn?!” he shouts — it’s the angriest he’s ever gotten with her, with any of them. They’ve never seen Kurt — always so willing to talk things through, to communicate — this upset before.

Quinn’s voice is still lodged in her throat as she reaches into her coat pocket, handing Kurt the invitation she’d carefully folded and tucked away. He scans the invitation quickly, crumpling it in his fist before pushing past the three of them, heading straight towards the exit.

“Wait, Kurt, where are you going?!” Rachel calls out to him, trailing closely behind him.

“I’m going to give him a piece of my fucking mind,” he calls out, slamming the door behind him.

Rachel hesitates, clutching her shoes to her chest as she watches Kurt through the glass door. Quinn rushes to her side, instantly regretting giving in to Kurt so easily.

They sigh as they watch Kurt disappear from their line of vision, turning to each other with grave, worried frowns. Before either of them can propose a plan of action, Santana lets out a snort.

“Well, this night just got ten times more interesting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time to brawl leggo
> 
> thanks so much for reading! :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another heads up to note the month/dates for this chapter as we're jumping around a bit again! thank you so much for reading :)

_** June 2018 ** _

“Someone’s home late,” Rachel calls out from her place on the couch, lowering the volume on the TV.

“The trains were a nightmare,” Kurt says with a groan as he toes off his shoes, carefully depositing them onto the shoe rack by the door. “The J was the L and the A was the Q,” he explains, still not totally able to wrap his own head around the jumble that is the Brooklyn subsection of the subway system despite living in Bushwick for nearly six months now.

“My condolences,” Rachel says with a sympathetic pout. She holds out her pint of non-dairy Cherry Garcia as he settles on the couch beside her, but he shakes his head politely. “So, your first official date with Elliot?” Rachel prods with a sneaky smile, nudging Kurt’s leg with her foot.

He rolls his eyes, batting her foot and prying questions away. “One, Elliot is just a friend, and two, no – just dinner with Blaine.”

Kurt misses the way Rachel’s brows knit together in confusion, too busy texting Blaine to let him know that he’d arrived home safely to notice.

“I thought you said you and Elliot were going out tonight? As in a more than just friends outing?”

Kurt shrugs as he tucks his phone back into his pocket. “We were, but Blaine was finally able to get us a reservation at this Thai place that we’ve been _dying_ to try, and Elliot was fine with rescheduling for another time, so…” Kurt trails off, turning his attention to the TV, reaching for the remote to turn the volume up when Rachel stops him.

“So you cancelled a date to go out with Blaine? Again?” she asks slowly, emphasizing the _again._

Kurt still doesn't see the issue as he pushes her arm away and grabs the remote. “What? Are you suddenly the head of the Social Life Committee?” he sasses. “Elliot and I are already going to see each other for band rehearsal on Friday, what’s the big deal?”

Rachel snatches the remote out of his hand, turning the TV off before he can stray any further from the discussion at hand. “The big deal is that Elliot asked you out on a _date_ and you cancelled on him to hang out with Blaine, who you already see every week,” she explains, urging Kurt to follow her train of thought.

“And? I see Elliot every week too?”

It’s true – in fact, he’s confident he sees Elliot more often than he sees Blaine these days. After nearly three months of rehearsals, their Madonna cover band had finally managed to secure their first gig. It wasn’t much – just a two song set at a bar in BedStuy, but it’s still something. Kurt had originally proposed they meet up for rehearsals twice a week leading up to their performance, but their bassist, Dani, wasn’t able to find anyone to cover her usual bartending shifts, so Kurt and Elliot took it upon themselves to rehearse on their own.

Rachel has been urging Kurt to pursue a romantic relationship with Elliot since as long as the band has been together, squealing in excitement after meeting Elliot for the first time, insisting that he was _perfect_ for Kurt.

Kurt begged to differ – Elliot wasn’t exactly his type, all glitter and leather and rock and roll, but he couldn’t deny that Elliot was handsome. Very handsome, if he was being honest with himself. When Elliot had pulled him aside after their usual rehearsal, uncharacteristically shy as he asked Kurt if he’d be interested in grabbing a drink sometime – Kurt’s first instinct was to turn him down. The three of them had a good thing going – they sounded great together, actually liked one another, and were relatively drama-free. Considering Kurt’s less than stellar romantic track record – especially the number of misguided flings and brief relationships he’d embarked on since graduation – taking things further with Elliot would be a guaranteed recipe for disaster.

But Elliot had unknowingly chosen to ask Kurt out during an opportune moment of weakness. Kurt’s latest suitor, a sweet boy named Roderick that he’d met an open call, had dumped him via Instagram DM, despite the fact that they’d never actually made their relationship official. He’d tried to mend the wound of Roderick’s rejection with an ill-advised hook up with his college ex, Chandler – but all that led to was a barrage of texts and calls asking if this meant they were back together. Going out with someone as attractive and fun and wild as Elliot was exactly what he needed to pick himself back up.

The problem was, Elliot had now asked Kurt out nearly three weeks ago. The first cancellation was on Elliot – he’d forgotten that he’d agreed to dogsit for a friend that night. Kurt cancels the following two times. Both times he tells Elliot it’s because of work – it’s easier than telling him the truth, that he’s cancelling to spend time with Blaine.

“Kurt, you can see Blaine whenever you want,” Rachel insists, sitting up and waiting until Kurt locks eyes with her before continuing. “You’ve spent the past four months complaining about your lack of a romantic life. And now that there’s a heavily tattooed, eyeliner-wearing rock god asking to take you out on a date, you cancel on him.”

Kurt remains silent, tugging at a loose thread on the throw blanket over the couch. He refuses to admit that she’s right, even if he knows that she is. He doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction, or force himself to reevaluate his own priorities.

“Maybe I want to focus on myself for a change,” he proposes as if that was his plan all along, but Rachel can see right through him.

“Fine. Then I don’t want to hear you complaining about how single you are anymore.” She crosses her arms and smirks.

“I’m allowed to complain while on my journey to self-improvement,” he snaps, lobbing a throw pillow at her in retaliation.

She yelps, only just catching the pillow before it can fly past her and knock over the lamp on a nearby end table. “No need to destroy our apartment just because you know I’m right!” she protests, tucking the pillow safely behind her. “You should ask Blaine,” she suggests with a snap of her fingers. “I bet he agrees with me,” she adds with a confident nod.

Kurt rolls his eyes, picking himself up off the couch and shuffling towards his room. “I’m not going to ask Blaine for advice about my dating life,” he replies with an air of finality.

“Why not? You ask him for advice about every other aspect of your life.” Kurt’s sure she’s referencing the nearly four hour conversation he and Blaine had the previous week about whether Kurt should paint his room cerulean blue or cobalt blue.

Kurt sighs, propping himself up against the doorframe. “Because… we just don’t talk about that kind of stuff,” he confesses sheepishly. He can’t honestly remember the last time he and Blaine discussed their romantic lives. Granted, Blaine hasn’t had much to discuss – he and Sebastian appear to have settled into their new domestic routine without any issues or causes for concern.

“Seriously?” Rachel asks, propping herself up on the arm of the couch so that she can face Kurt. “You two talk about everything.”

Kurt shrugs. He can’t explain it. There just came a point at which romance stopped being something they talked about. It started shortly after the now infamous freshman year Tina and Brody incident, and hasn’t changed since. “We used to. Now we don’t,” is the only explanation he can come up with.

Rachel looks skeptical, but drops that particular line of questioning regardless. “My point is, if you want to see some change, you’re going to have to actually put yourself out there,” she explains diplomatically as she shuffles off to the kitchen to return her ice cream to the freezer. “Remember that pep talk you gave me after Jesse and I broke up?” she calls out.

“The second or the third time?” he snarks back.

Rachel isn’t amused by his attempt at humor, giving him a deadpan look before replying. “This is my pep talk for you.” She crosses over to Kurt, resting her hands on his shoulders. “I know living in a different borough from your best friend is hard, but Blaine isn’t going to be offended if you don’t hang out with him for a few weeks to focus on yourself and what _you_ want,” she says, in a surprisingly calm and nurturing tone.

Kurt doesn’t bother replying – what else could he possibly say? Instead, he shrugs out of Rachel’s grip and walks into his room, gently closing the door and ending their conversation. He throws himself onto his bed with a groan, trying to shake off Rachel’s unwelcome advice. He flops over onto his back, peering up at the framed photo on his bedside table. Blaine perched on Kurt’s back, clinging onto him for dear life – that fleeting moment of Blaine’s squeal of terror and Kurt’s amused laughter captured beautifully. His phone buzzes with a new text from Blaine.

_Glad you got home safe! Still on for Happy Hour on Tuesday?_

He sighs, pushing the phone under his pillow as he weighs his options. Spending time with Blaine has become complicated in a way that it never was before. Living together for three years, both on campus and post-graduation, had spoiled them. They can’t just meet up in the living room and embark on an all-day _Drag Race_ binge, or plan a spontaneous trip to the beach the way they used to. They can’t even spend time at each other’s apartments the way they want to – with Blaine now living up in Harlem and Kurt down in Bushwick. It’s become a long distance relationship, in a way. They’re limited to post-work meetups in Manhattan, the halfway point between their new apartments, and the occasional weekend brunch whenever Kurt doesn’t have a show.

But maybe Rachel’s right, maybe it’s time for him to focus on himself for once. He’s told himself for years that he’s put the past behind him, but he can’t pretend that he hasn’t held on to some of his naive hope. A tiny sliver of hope that one day Blaine will see something he hasn’t seen before.

It feels cruel to hold onto that kind of hope now. Wishing that Blaine would put an end to things with Sebastian would mean wishing unhappiness on his best friend. It’s selfish – he knows that, but he can’t help himself.

Six years is a long time to hold out for something that he knows is never going to come. He sighs as he looks up at that photo one more time before tucking it away in his bedside drawer.

Six years is long enough.

* * *

Blaine nearly trips over himself as he shoots off his latest text to Kurt while attempting to untie his shoes, realizing he really should’ve passed on that last glass of wine. He stumbles into the kitchen, doing his best to keep the noise down. He’s sure Sebastian has been asleep for hours – he’s been dreading his latest upcoming business trip and the accompanying 5am flight for weeks. Blaine doesn’t bother with turning on the lights either, not wanting to disturb what little bit of sleep Sebastian will manage to get before his car to the airport arrives at 3am.

“You’re home late,” Sebastian says, Blaine letting out a startled shriek.

“Jesus Seb, don’t sneak up on me like that,” he says as he catches his breath, wincing when Sebastian flips on the kitchen lights.

“Had to work late again?” he presses on sarcastically, his tone unusually short.

“No. Kurt and I met up for dinner,” he explains as he pours himself a glass of water.

Sebastian nods slowly, lips pressed into a hard, thin line. “And why didn’t you tell me that you and Kurt were going to meet up for dinner?”

Blaine shrugs, finishing off the last of his water. “It was last minute – a reservation opened up at this place we’ve been talking about trying for months.” He pauses, brows knitting in confusion. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, Blaine,” he snaps. “I just spent an entire night wondering where my boyfriend is. Maybe I’m not okay.”

Blaine stiffens uncomfortably, wincing at Sebastian’s tone. He knows that tone all too well – it’s the first warning signs of an argument. “You could’ve just texted me and asked where I was,” Blaine replies – if they’re going to get into an argument regardless, he might as well defend himself while he still can.

“I did. Twice,” Sebastian replies cooly. “You never responded.”

Blaine’s brows furrow as he pulls his phone back out, ignoring Kurt’s latest text to open up his messages. He swallows hard – two unread messages, both from Sebastian.

_Where are you? You didn’t mention going out tonight._

_If you’re not back by midnight I’m calling the cops._

“Seb, I-I’m so sorry, I must’ve missed tho–”

“You always do this,” he cuts off. “Every time you’re with Kurt you ‘lose track of time’ or suddenly stop seeing my text messages.”

Blaine remains silent, head hung in shame. He can’t even deny it – he knows it’s true. His bad habit of going off the grid whenever he spends time with Kurt is something he’s promised Sebastian he would shake time and time again, but he always trips himself up. It’s not a conscious effort, ignoring texts and calls when he and Kurt are together. Kurt is his best friend, he just wants to make the most of the limited time that they get to spend together now that they’re no longer roommates. He always tries to stay off of his phone while out with friends, he doesn’t want to be rude – it just so happens that all of his outings as of late have been with Kurt.

“I’m sorry,” is all Blaine can come up with – what else is there for him to say?

Sebastian doesn’t respond at first, inhaling sharply before shifting in closer to Blaine. “I don’t like how much time you two have been spending together.”

It feels like a punch in the gut, but he’s not surprised – he saw it coming, really. It would be impossible for him to ignore the sudden way Sebastian’s gaze hardens every time he so much as mentions Kurt – something that has only cropped up in the few months they’ve been living together.

Things between Kurt and Sebastian had slowly but steadily burned down to a low simmer over the years. It was difficult at first, especially during those first few months after graduation, to even get Sebastian and Kurt to sit in the same room together without poking at each other. For months, Kurt had held on to the hurt of Sebastian getting the coveted showcase spotlight after he was promptly disqualified for missing his own audition, almost letting that jealousy consume him. It became a little bit easier to manage his friendship and his relationship once Sebastian started law school the Fall after graduation. Kurt had scoffed at Sebastian’s decision to pursue law of all things when June had opened innumerable doors for him after his showcase – apprenticeships, internships, and even rumors of an audition for _Hamilton._ But their vengeance slowly began to turn to tolerance as the months went on – Blaine reasoning that they have no reason to feud, they’re not each other’s competition anymore.

But Sebastian’s opinion of Kurt has quickly soured since they moved in together.

“He’s my best friend,” Blaine replies, voice meek, quiet. He’s defended Kurt before, defended their friendship as strictly platonic more times than he can count. But Sebastian has always been wary.

“Well, you’re my best friend, and it feels like I hardly ever see you anymore!” he snaps back, waving his arm towards the door. “Every time I’m _actually_ home on time, you’re out with Kurt doing god knows what!”

Blaine takes a step back, caught off guard by the volume of Sebastian’s voice, shaking his head as he replies. “So it’s my fault then?!” he retaliates, not bothering holding back his anger this time. “You work until all hours of the night every other day, and _I’m_ the villain for going out once or twice a week?”

He can understand Sebastian’s frustrations with him for not texting him back, but he draws the line at being blamed for their opposing schedules. Half of the week he comes home to an empty apartment, makes dinner by himself, and is half asleep on the couch by the time Sebastian gets home.

“I’m lucky if I can even have a conversation with you once a day,” Blaine continues, airing out all of the frustrations he’s been holding in for weeks. “You come home and all you want to do is go right to bed. It’s like you don’t even want to _talk_ to me anymore.” His voice cracks as his throat tightens, eyes heavy with welled tears. He shifts away, not wanting Sebastian to see how upset he’s become.

He expects Sebastian to fight back, try to put the blame back on him. He’s a lawyer, and an excellent one at that – he’s mastered the art of winning arguments. But instead, Sebastian remains silent. Blaine can hear him hovering behind him, jumping slightly when Sebastian wraps his arms around his shoulders, pulling his back firm against his chest.

“I’m sorry, too,” he whispers. It’s surprising to hear Sebastian apologize. Blaine is confident he can count on one hand the amount of times Sebastian has apologized to him during the entirety of their relationship. He’s not sure how it happens, but Sebastian has always had a way of convincing Blaine that _he_ was the one that needed to apologize – most times without Blaine even noticing. “Work has just been… a lot lately, and you’re the only thing I have to look forward to most days,” he explains, resting his head on Blaine’s shoulders. “I miss you.”

Blaine lets out a heavy sigh, resting his hands on top of Sebastian’s as he leans back and kisses him. The angle is awkward, but neither of them mind. “I miss you too,” he replies quietly, letting Sebastian turn him around and pull him into his arms again.

They crawl back to bed together without another word, wrapping themselves up in each other. Blaine’s still not sure what the days and weeks to come will hold – whether he and Sebastian will make good on their unspoken promises. Even though they’ve reconciled, there’s a nagging pit in his stomach that keeps him up long after Sebastian’s begun snoring. He stares at their bedroom ceiling, counting the chips in the paint until his eyes grow heavy – dreaming of bright blue eyes and an intoxicating smile as he slowly drifts off to sleep.

Strangely enough he wakes up before his alarm, rolling over onto the cool, now vacant left side of the bed. Sebastian is long gone, probably already in the air by now – even his usual groove in the mattress has faded away. He trudges into the kitchen, still blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he works on his morning cup of coffee. His mind had been restless even after he’d fallen asleep, spawning terrible nightmares of Kurt bathed in a sea of dark, looming tendrils, Kurt’s voice ringing in his ears even after he’d woken up in a cold sweat.

He’s halfway through his first cup of coffee when he notices the bouquet of flowers on the dining room table. His brow furrows – had those been there yesterday? He pads over to the dining table, eyes growing wide as he realizes the flowers aren’t the only unusual addition. There’s a basket of fresh pastries – most notably several flavors of cronuts, his one weakness. He looks around for some kind of note or card from Sebastian, finding one tucked beneath the basket of pastries.

_I’m sorry I had to leave after everything last night. Business is a bitch. But I love you, and I’m ready to make those changes as soon as I’m back. Until then, I thought I’d leave you a little surprise - something to look forward to once I’m back._

_Check the top shelf of my half of the closet._

_xxx Seb_

Blaine sets the note back down, heading back into the bedroom. He’s not sure what to expect as he runs his hand along the highest shelf in the closet. There’s not much up there – a couple of old sweaters Sebastian’s been meaning to donate to Goodwill, and a set of spare sheets for the guest room. His fingers close around a small, velvet box. His stomach sinks as he pulls it down to examine it closer. He’s seen boxes like this before, though never in person. His fingers tremble as he carefully props the box open, gulping audibly. It’s exactly what he’d feared.

An engagement ring.

* * *

_** December 2020 ** _

Kurt doesn’t think he’s ever been this angry before. He’s fuelled by pure rage and far too much champagne as he storms out of his own engagement party, not bothering to even inform his fiancé of where he’s going. He can hear Rachel and Quinn calling after him, but he ignores them – dead set on his path. He steps directly into traffic, extending his arm as a slew of taxis whip past him. It’s reckless and dangerous and could possibly get him killed and he doesn’t give a single fuck about anything that’s not getting to Blaine’s goddamn engagement party.

It only takes two more tries before he successfully hails a cab, slamming the door roughly enough for the driver to mumble a gruff “watch it” as he settles into the backseat. He reads off the address on the invitation he’d snatched from Quinn, scoffing when he realizes the venue is on the Upper West Side. Of course it fucking is, he thinks to himself bitterly – he’s not at all surprised that Sebastian was willing to shell out some of his precious trust fund to ensure they upstaged him.

The thirty minute drive gives him ample time to rehearse exactly what he wants to say to Blaine, and sober up just the tiniest bit. He decides against his original plan of storming in, throwing a drink in his face, then promptly leaving. He’s not opposed to still throwing a drink at him, but he wants to make sure he gets in a thorough telling off first at least.

In all of the years that he’s known Blaine he never would’ve thought he’d do something like this – stoop so low just to spite him. And over what? A disagreement where he was expected to sit idly by and let Blaine insult his relationship? After years of keeping quiet about the _many_ critiques he has of Blaine’s own relationship? He’s wasted enough of his time letting Blaine treat him like a back up option. This is long overdue.

He ignores several calls from Quinn and Rachel, groaning when a call from Adam comes in when they’re just a block from the venue. He huffs, weighing his options quickly before answering the call.

“I’ll call you back in a few, handling something,” he says at top speed, ending the call before Adam can reply and effectively cutting off his fiancé ’s confused greeting.

He tosses a wad of bills at the cab driver, not caring if he’s just left him a 40% tip, and stomps over to the venue. He blows right past the attendant at the entrance, who asks him nicely if he’s there for the Anderson-Smythe gathering. She calls after him, growing more concerned when he shows no signs of stopping. By the time he reaches the main dining area, a small army of employees have begun tailing him.

It’s not a modest affair by any means – at first glance Kurt estimates there are well over 150 guests. He’s able to lose the employees on his tail by weaving his way into the crowd. Hardly anyone notices his presence – the few familiar faces he runs into as he carefully navigates the room wave a quick hello. To an outsider, he’s not an unexpected guest – he’s Blaine’s best friend after all. When he finally spots Blaine, chatting animatedly with a group of former Warblers, he pushes roughly past several of Blaine’s cousins to get to him. Blaine catches sight of him when he’s about 10 feet away, looking up from his drink with wide eyes.

“Kurt?” he says, and for a fleeting second it actually looks like he’s happy to see him – his eyes lighting up the way they always used to when they were in college. That spark that had once made Kurt feel like the only boy in the world feels cheap now – it doesn’t reduce him to pieces the way it once did. It makes his blood boil.

Blaine quickly realizes that Kurt isn’t there to reconcile, breaking away from his group just in time for Kurt to grab him roughly by the sleeve and drag him towards the bathrooms. Blaine attempts to wriggle out of Kurt’s grip, reaching for his hand instead – but Kurt quickly pulls away.

“What’re you doing, Kurt?!” Blaine snaps, standing his ground and refusing to move until Kurt gives him an explanation.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you the same thing?!” Kurt shouts right back. “What the _fuck,_ Blaine?!”

They’re far away enough from the crowds of party goers to not arouse any suspicion, but Blaine still winces at the tone of Kurt’s voice. He groans, giving in and leading the way to the bathrooms, catching on to Kurt’s plan for privacy. Blaine quickly stoops down to glance below the stalls, confirming that they’re alone before turning back to Kurt with flushed cheeks.

“What’re you doing here?” he says in a harsh whisper, despite the fact that they’re now alone.

“I have a more important question,” Kurt begins, putting his hands together so he doesn’t have to worry about ‘accidentally’ punching Blaine in the face. “Why the **fuck** did you decide to have your engagement party today of all days?”

Blaine looks puzzled, looking at Kurt as though he’s lost his mind. Which, if he’s being honest, he sort of has.

“Because this was the only date that worked for Sebastian’s family?” he answers calmly. “I sent you an invitation. Unless you’re ignoring mail from me too?” he snips, jaw set as he presses his lips into a hard, thin line.

Kurt scoffs – he’s certain he would’ve remembered receiving an invitation if Blaine had actually sent him one. He’s sure he would’ve destroyed half of his apartment in a rage if he’d learned that Blaine was 1) having a needless engagement party in the first place, and 2) chose to have said needless party on the same day as his own.

“And if _you_ paid any attention to the invitation I sent out weeks ago, you’d know that Adam and I’s engagement party is today,” he snaps back.

It had been a brief moment of weakness, sending Blaine an invitation to his party. He’d had far too much wine after stuffing envelopes for nearly three hours, and he found himself writing down Blaine’s name and address without thinking. He stared at the envelope for nearly twenty minutes, debating whether this was the right way to go about mending the cracks in their relationship.

He deemed it an olive branch, a middle ground for them to strike up a conversation again – even if it was just a simple text to RSVP. As angry as he was, he still wanted Blaine to be a part of the most important day of his life. He didn’t want finding his happy ending to mean he had to lose his best friend in the process.

But there were no texts or calls or emails – not a single acknowledgement of the invitation he’d worked up so much courage to send. The RSVP date came and went and he told himself that he’d make an exception if Blaine still chose to respond at all. But he never did – and Kurt had to let his heart break all over again.

And this. This party, celebrating this bullshit engagement on _his_ day. This is the final straw.

“Kurt, I swear I had no idea,” Blaine tries to defend. He actually does look surprised – Kurt might have even believed that he was telling the truth if he didn’t know firsthand what a talented performer he is.

“And why are you even throwing this party anyway?” Kurt plows on, running on pure spite at this point. “You two got engaged over a year ago. Why bother throwing a party now?”

“Sebastian’s parents offered–” Blaine squeaks out timidly, but Kurt bowls right over him, continuing on with his tirade.

“Or was it Sebastian’s idea? Did you two come up with this master plan together? To humiliate me one last time?”

“Kurt, you need to calm down,” Blaine pleads, innocently taking a hold of Kurt’s arm, but he angrily pulls away.

“No!” he shouts as he wrenches back his arm. “I’m so sick and tired of playing this stupid goddamn game!” he screams loud enough to rattle the mirrors over the sink, Blaine blushing scarlet as he attempts to shush Kurt without making him even angrier. “I’m done being your friend, Blaine. I waited for you for _seven_ years, and I let myself think that entire time that something was going to change – and that’s my fault, I see that now. You’re never going to change,” he spits out with as much contempt as he can muster in his heavily inebriated state.

“Kurt,” Blaine begs in that tone that would always make Kurt’s heart melt. On instinct his stomach flutters, the way it always used to when Blaine so much as looked at him – and he hates it. He hates how little he actually hates Blaine. “I’m so sorry that this happened, but can we please talk about this some other time. Sebastian’s entire family flew out for this and I–”

“Oh, of course,” Kurt cuts off. He’s well past off script when it comes to what he planned to say – now he’s gone on into a full blown ramble. “Let me leave you to your precious celebration of love. Because your engagement is _so_ much more important than mine.”

“Stop it,” Blaine warns, but it’s too late – Kurt’s too far gone to care.

“You cheated on your fiancé the week after he fucking proposed to you, but _I’m_ the one that’s wrong. Because I’m ‘moving too fast’ and you–”

“STOP IT!” Blaine screams, louder than Kurt has been this entire time – loud enough to finally stop Kurt’s tirade.

Kurt doesn’t reply. He doesn’t think he can. He’s lost his momentum and he doesn’t even really want to continue anymore – he got what he came for. He told Blaine off, told him how he really feels. Why rip that wound open even further? All at once, he loses all of that confidence and liquid courage and he’s just as afraid as he was yesterday – afraid of the consequences of everything he and Blaine have done. Except the fear has increased by hundreds – because it’s all come true now. He’s laid it all out – the secrets they’ve been carrying with them all these years, and there’s no going back.

He can’t find the courage to look Blaine in the eyes, so he keeps his eyes to the ground. He turns around, prepared to see himself out – only to walk right into someone hovering in the doorway. He opens his mouth to apologize, only to gulp as he realizes he’s now surrounded by not just one – but five security guards.

And at the center of the army of guards, eyes fixed on Kurt with a glare that could cut right through him, is Sebastian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> howdy! not gonna lie, I'm super excited about this chapter!
> 
> as always, major kudos and praise to my beta, Adri, for all her sage wisdom and amazing commentary <3

_** June 2018 ** _

Kurt orders himself a shot the moment he walks into the bar. He waves off the bartender when they ask what kind of alcohol he wants, not caring so long as it’s strong and served within the next five minutes. He’s not the quick and dirty type when it comes to drinking – when he indulges in the occasional cocktail, he likes to take his time with it. He likes to sip slowly and pace himself to appreciate the flavor combinations – and to avoid needing to order another $15 drink to get himself just tipsy enough to not give in to his anti-social leanings and head home early.

But today is different. Blaine let him know that he was running a few minutes late, and Kurt’s never been so grateful for subway delays. By Kurt’s estimation, he has about 10 minutes until Blaine arrives, which gives him 10 minutes to calm himself down enough to broach the topic that’s been on his mind since their last meet-up.

There’s no delicate way to tell your best friend you need to spend less time together. It’s an altogether uncomfortable topic – made even more uncomfortable by the fact that this has all come about as a result of Kurt’s lack of a romantic life. It’s not that they’ve never discussed their respective relationships (or in Kurt’s case, a lack thereof) – but there’s always an uncomfortable type of tension when they do. They both clam up, tripping over themselves and struggling to not sound too eager about changing the topic

The week following his and Blaine’s last outing had been wake up call after wake up call. It started with his spat with Rachel – her well meaning advice hanging over him every time he so much as thought about Blaine. He didn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that he thought she was right, but started on his new resolution regardless. He cornered Elliot after rehearsal that Friday, asking him if he would be interested in grabbing a drink that night as opposed to rescheduling. Elliot had blushed and shrugged, and after several seconds of trying to avoid the question, finally confessed the truth. He’d met someone else. He’d assumed Kurt’s constant rescheduling was a gentle way of letting him know that he wasn’t _really_ interested. So, he moved on – and things were going well so far.

Naturally, Kurt was mortified. He’d wished Elliot the best and rushed straight home, where he screamed into a pillow long enough to make himself light headed. It was yet another harsh – and this time embarrassing – reminder that letting himself hold on to hopes and dreams about Blaine did more harm than good.

The second step on his journey was downloading Tinder. It’s certainly not a permanent fix, and he’s fairly confident he won’t find anyone he deems relationship material on a dating app – but it’s a start. It’s a test, really – to see if he’s ready to put himself out there yet. It’s alright if he takes his time, so long as he’s making progress. He dedicates at least five minutes to reviewing each profile that comes his way – evaluating them on a scale that measures their looks, profession, bio, and overall presentation. After four hours on the app, he’s only swiped right on about a dozen profiles – but he’s confident in his selections.

He’s nervous, at first. Every time a new message notification pops up, his heart races and his hands start to sweat and he has to take several deep breaths before he can even look at his phone again. Every match, every conversation holds the possibility of heartbreak. Even the men he rules out within their first ten minutes of conversation frighten him. It’s the thought of letting someone in – of letting them get to know every part of him – that frightens him. Because he’s already let someone in, and they’re in love with somebody else.

Nerves aside, Kurt does manage to meet someone he isn’t totally opposed to meeting up with. Walter seems unusually handsome to be on a dating app – and he edits all of his photos with an odd, grainy filter that Kurt’s never seen before – but, he’s kind, intelligent (but not intimidatingly so), and perhaps most importantly, he makes Kurt feel excited. They make vague plans to meet up for drinks after work the following week, and unlike many of his previous first dates, he’s not totally dreading it.

The final step, at least for now, is Blaine. Kurt doesn’t bother cancelling their usual Tuesday evening happy hour – this is the type of conversation he wants to have in person. But he definitely doesn’t want to be totally sober for it.

“Getting started without me?” Blaine teases as he slides up to the bar beside Kurt, knocking their hips together.

“Sorry,” Kurt mumbles, still recoiling from the unforgiving burn of tequila sliding down his throat. He’s prepared to head off to their usual table in the next room when Blaine leans across the bar, waving down the bartender and ordering a shot for himself. “Since when do you do shots?” Kurt asks with a raised brow. Blaine’s always been more of a two beers type – especially since the last time he’d done shots, the night ended with Kurt comforting him well into the early hours of the morning as he clung to the toilet bowl.

“Weird day,” is all Blaine says before accepting his shot from the bartender and knocking it back without any hesitance.

Kurt doesn’t push – he knows better than that. He knows Blaine will open up about it if that’s what he wants. Reinvigorated by two shots of tequila and his usual moscow mule being prepared as they speak, he loops his arm through Blaine’s and guides him back to their table.

On the surface, it all feels normal. They casually chat about their afternoons – Blaine doesn’t elaborate any further on the ‘weirdness’ of his own day. Instead, he pulls out his phone with a grin and passes it across the table. Kurt squeals as he realizes it’s a photo of Feta, wearing the bowtie he’d handmade for him the previous year.

“My sweet little Fettuccine,” he coos as he swipes through the several photos, grinning at the variety of poses Blaine had made sure to capture.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you miss him more than you miss me,” Blaine teases as he pulls up a separate set of photos of Feta from their latest trip to the park.

“Oh, I do,” Kurt corrects quickly. Losing Blaine as a roommate had been hard, but having to part with Feta had been even harder. He knew it was bound to happen – they’d agreed when they adopted him that if they ever moved into separate apartments, Blaine would take him – but it hadn’t made the separation any easier.

“How’s Hepburn?” Blaine asks as he tucks his phone away.

Kurt rolls his eyes at the thought of his cat. “Evil, as always,” he laments.

Hepburn had been a problematic cat from the day Kurt had first brought her home, now nearly two years ago. His attempts to gently discourage her from biting or scratching him whenever he so much as came within three feet of her were all in vain. He’d been so covered in scratch marks during his first month with her that a rumor had spread amongst his coworkers that he’d suddenly gotten involved in an underground rough sex cult.

“She’s not that bad,” Blaine chides, handing off his credit card to their waiter as she sets down their latest round of drinks, shushing Kurt when he opens his mouth to protest.

“Says the only person that she actually likes,” Kurt replies.

Blaine has always been the only person Hepburn tolerates – and even then he’s not always spared from her wrath. He’d suffered his fair share of bites and scratches during those first few months. But even so, he’s the only person who’s ever been able to successfully pet her in the two years that Kurt has had her. Well, besides Feta - the only living creature that Hepburn actually enjoyed spending time with.

There's a brief lull in the conversation – and for a second Kurt considers bringing it up, but he doesn’t. It’s too soon, and he’s still far too sober to handle the possibility of seeing Blaine look up at him with those hurt, puppy dog eyes. So, he brings up something else.

But it happens again – for a few minutes, everything will seem fine and they’re laughing and telling stories like they always do, and then there’s a hitch. A moment where they’re both silent, looking at the other expectantly, until one of them breaks down and moves on to some other mundane topic.

After one and a half more drinks, Kurt finally starts to feel like he’s ready. Well, he doesn’t, really. His stomach is still in knots and his hands are still shaking, but it’s been nearly two hours and he’s worried if he doesn’t say what he needs to say soon, then he won’t say it at all. Blaine trails off after he fills Kurt in on the latest updates in the ongoing battle to convince Quinn to get highlights, that familiar silence settling over the table – and then he says it.

“We need to talk,” they both blurt out simultaneously.

Kurt’s ready to launch into his spiel, only to cut himself off and blink up at Blaine in confusion.

“What do you need to talk about?” he asks.

Blaine shakes his head, cheeks flushed scarlet. “No, no, you go first,” he urges before knocking back the remainder of his drink.

Kurt nods slowly, wary of whatever it is Blaine needs to talk to him about. It rattles his confidence. He gives himself a moment to recollect himself before he begins.

“I… I-I think we’re going to have to spend less time together,” he says in one breath, chest already feeling lighter and less constricted when Blaine doesn’t immediately break down. “It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you,” he adds quickly. “I just… I-I think it’s time for me to put myself back out there… you know, romantically. And I’m only going to have so many days off once I get into Cursed Child rehearsals, and… yeah,” he trails off, ending on a lamer note than he’d originally intended, but he just so desperately wants this conversation to be over already.

He peers up at Blaine, expecting to see shock, or upset, or anger, or a dangerous combination of the three – but instead he looks… calm. Shockingly calm at that, almost relieved. The corners of his mouth tug up just the slightest bit as he reaches across the table to take Kurt’s hand.

“You’re my best friend, Kurt – and you’ll always be my best friend, even if I only get to see you once a month, or even once a year,” he reassures, and his voice is so warm and loving it makes Kurt’s eyes well with tears. “And the single males of New York are very, _very_ lucky to have you in their midst,” he adds with a wink.

“Thank you,” Kurt chokes out, failing miserably at making himself unaffected by Blaine’s sentiment. But he doesn’t care – Blaine isn’t upset with him, their friendship is fine, everything is okay. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Kurt asks, not letting himself feel truly relieved until Blaine says his piece.

But all Blaine does is shrug, brushing off the topic with a wave of his hand. “Doesn’t matter,” he explains before standing up, stepping behind Kurt’s seat and urging him to stand up too.

“What’re you doing?” He giggles as Blaine hoists him up and off his seat.

“If this is going to be our last hurrah we might as well make the most out of it, right?” He takes Kurt’s hand, guiding him back towards the bar.

“You make it sound like we’re never going to see each other again,” he teases, but follows along regardless.

Blaine shrugs, nudging Kurt forward slightly and slotting himself in behind him. “With the amount of guys that are going to be knocking on your door for a date, maybe we won’t.”

It feels odd – Blaine joking about his dating life. He’s the only person in his tight circle of friends that hasn’t made a passing comment about his flighty relationship history – a fact he’s always been grateful for. But, this is a step in the right direction, he tells himself. This is something they should be able to talk about together. So, he accepts the drink Blaine hands him without question, and toasts to new beginnings.

* * *

Blaine may have let them go just a _tad_ overboard. Every time he starts to think about Kurt kissing, touching, loving some faceless guy, he tosses back another drink. Soon those thoughts stop coming – the edges of the world are blurred and everything is awesome and Kurt is so much fun and always so amazing and he can’t believe he’s his best friend. Kurt, always so prim and proper when it comes to drinking, doesn’t seem to mind. He knocks his drinks back with ease at a pace that Blaine would find intimidating if he wasn’t so in over his head.

They’re giggling more than they’re talking by the time they close out their tabs. They’re grinning like mischievous children as they hold tight to one another and stumble to the subway. They’re prepared to go their separate ways – Kurt towards the Brooklyn-bound platform and Blaine to the Uptown platform – when Kurt lets out a dramatic groan.

“The J’s not coming for another twenty minutes,” he says with a pout as he glares at the ETA screen above him.

“You should come stay with me!” Blaine proposes enthusiastically, pointing out that the A train is only 2 minutes away.

Even intoxicated, Kurt appears wary. Blaine doesn’t invite him over often, and when he does it’s during the few afternoons when he knows Sebastian won’t be around. Blaine knows better than to be in a room with just those two and no one else to serve as a barrier.

“Seb’s out of town for business,” he adds, knowing it’s what Kurt needs to hear if he’s going to be swayed.

Kurt nods, but there’s still a moment of hesitation. He gives in when a voice blares over the crackly speakers that the A train is now arriving. Blaine’s eyes widen – he still needs to cross the station and get down the stairs to the platform if he wants to make the train. He’s prepared to make a run for it when Kurt smirks, linking their fingers once again and rocketing towards the platform. Blaine nearly trips over himself as he struggles to keep up with him, clinging to Kurt for dear life as they rush down the stairs and throw themselves onto the train just seconds before the doors close behind them. None of the other passengers even bat an eye as the boys dissolve into fits of laughter, collapsing into the closest available seats and clutching their sides as they laugh and laugh until tears brim in the corners of their eyes.

They quiet down as their laughter subsides, leaning on one another heavily. Blaine closes his eyes and lets himself reminisce on the last time they’d let themselves get this wild. It was Kurt’s 21st birthday – right at the tail end of their junior year at NYADA. Blaine can hardly remember the actual events of the party now, it’s all become a blur of far too much drinking and screaming with their friends until they were asked to either quiet down or head to a new bar. He can remember sobering up on the train ride back home, Kurt half asleep and leaning on his shoulder, their friends all similarly half asleep beside them.

He can remember how badly he wanted to kiss Kurt that night, right there in front of all of their friends – the desperate urge to pull him in and let the world know how in love he was. But he didn’t. Kurt had just ended his and Chandler’s relationship for the fourth, and what Kurt deemed final, time – but his friends were understandably wary. It didn’t feel like the right time, like every time before.

The silence of the train ride gives him an unfortunate amount of time to sit with his progressively less-clouded thoughts. The alcohol is beginning to wear off, the world isn’t spinning anymore, and he can’t push down the guilt that’s rising in his throat like bile. He knows he needs to tell Kurt the truth – he can’t run from it forever. Just not tonight – he can tell him later. It would be rude to talk about your possible engagement on the night your best friend has decided to put themselves out there again, he tells himself. It’s just not the right time.

He’s able to justify not telling him about the argument with Sebastian – there’s no need to hurt Kurt’s feelings and further fracture what semblance of a cordial relationship he has with Sebastian when he’s already resolved to spend less time with Blaine anyway. But he deserves to find out about the proposal in person – not on a phone call or FaceTime or an Instagram post like he’s someone who doesn’t matter.

Once they’re back at the apartment, the truth becomes impossible to ignore. Blaine remains silent as he flicks on the lights and Feta comes bounding over to them. He bypasses Blaine in favor of getting to Kurt, leaping up to paw at his jeans, his tail wagging faster than ever.

“Fettuccine! Did you miss me?” Kurt squeals as he squats down to pull Feta into his arms, letting the overexcited pup shower him with kisses. “I think he did,” he says to Blaine in between giggles, sputtering when Feta tries to lick at his mouth.

Blaine doesn’t reply – he doesn’t want to disrupt their reunion. He excuses himself to the bathroom, urging Kurt to make himself comfortable. He splashes cold water on his face until he’s able to think clearly again. He can do this, he whispers to his reflection. _You have to tell him._

But, even when he doesn’t know it, Kurt is two steps ahead of him. When he makes his way back to the living room, Kurt has moved to the couch, Feta curled up happily in his lap, already half asleep again. Kurt’s eyes are fixed on the coffee table, his fingers mindlessly scratching behind Feta’s ears.

“Is this what I think it is?” he asks, before Blaine can even realize that the velvet box is sitting in front of him on the table – the same place it’s been sitting since the morning that he’d found it in the closet.

Blaine’s heart sinks. He wants to rush to Kurt’s side and wrap his arms around him until that frown begins to melt away, but he’s frozen in place. “He asked me last week, after he left,” he confesses lamely. It’s not entirely true – Sebastian hadn’t _asked_ him, really. And as such, Blaine hasn’t given him an answer.

“You said yes?”

Blaine waits to reply, finally forcing himself to move. He sits down beside Kurt, but can’t bear to look him in the eye just yet. They stare at the box together in deafening silence.

“I don’t know,” he replies. Because he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say when Sebastian comes back home, and he has to either put that ring on his finger or return it and put an end to something he thought he wanted just a few days ago.

Kurt doesn’t have a comeback for that. He picks up the box, propping it open with a frown. “He has good taste,” he mutters darkly, shifting the box around until the platinum band catches the bit of light in the room. Feta stirs suddenly, sniffing at the box suspiciously before hopping off of Kurt’s lap and trotting off to the next room. Kurt focuses his attention on his nail beds, hyper focused on pulling at any imperfections until one of them finally takes the plunge and breaks the silence.

“Tell me to say no.”

He says it without thinking. He says it because the truth is more than just telling Kurt about the proposal – it’s about telling Kurt that he’s wanted something more since the day he met him and that he was, and is still so ready and so willing to give every part of himself over to Kurt. If that’s what he wants.

He says it because when faced with the question of forever, the only person he can think about is Kurt.

Kurt is taken aback, understandably. He puts some distance between them, shifting to the opposite end of the couch. His jaw hangs open in a silent gasp, eyes flickering with what Blaine hopes is shock and not fear.

“W-what?” he stammers out.

“If you tell me to say no to Sebastian, I will,” Blaine reiterates, more confident this time – sure that this is the path he wants to take. He’s ready to put everything on the line, if it means Kurt can be his.

“I… I-I can’t make that kind of decision for you!” Kurt protests, suddenly flying out of his seat, arms crossed defensively as he starts pacing around the living room. “This is _marriage_ , Blaine. This isn’t like when we used a magic eight ball to decide what apartment we wanted to move into, it’s… this is so much bigger than that,” he finishes, voice breathless. Blaine can see the gears turning in Kurt’s mind as he bites down on his nail, old habits rearing ugly their ugly heads in moment’s of panic.

“It doesn’t have to be bigger than that.” Blaine crosses the short distance between them, reaching out and taking Kurt’s hands. “Say no and I’ll say it back.”

“I can’t make you do that,” Kurt whispers, tears clinging to his eyelashes, but he doesn’t wipe them away. He keeps his hands in Blaine’s.

“You wouldn’t be making me do anything,” Blaine reassures, lifting Kurt’s hand and pressing sweet kisses along the smooth plane of his palm.

He waits until Kurt’s sniffles have ceased, gently setting his hand back down at his side. He blinks back up at Kurt, ready to ask him again if this is what he wants – but Kurt doesn’t need words to give him his answer.

Kurt kisses him. It’s off center and Blaine’s lips are slightly parted from being caught off guard and he’s not quite sure what to do with his hands, so he settles them on Kurt’s arms just to give them something to do. And it is perfect.

Kissing Kurt is everything he had imagined it would be – sweet and hot and just the right amount of endearingly awkward. Kurt’s lips are warm and soft and taste like the bitter tang of vodka and tequila. It’s not like any kiss Blaine’s ever experienced before – he feels weightless and grounded all at the same time. It makes him forget everything – nothing else matters when Kurt’s lips are gliding wet and warm against his, pulling him in by the waist for more. It feels like a dream. The kind he never wants to wake up from.

“What’re we doing?” Kurt mumbles once they finally break apart, but Blaine’s already kissing down his neck.

“I don’t know,” he replies. He pauses for a beat, giving Kurt time to pull away if he’s changed his mind. He grips his collar, pulling him in for a searing kiss when he doesn’t – and doesn’t stop kissing him until he’s begging for a moment to breathe.

There are moments where they could say stop – pauses between kisses for breath, shifting from the middle of the living room to the wall to the couch – but neither of them do. They don’t say much of anything, letting their instincts guide them. There’s an occasional gasp or moan as they eagerly explore the parts of each other they’ve never seen before. They learn each other quickly, Blaine becoming fixated on making Kurt fall apart under him, above him, everywhere he’ll have him.

They don’t stop when clothes start coming off. It’s tentative, at first. They spend what feels like hours peeling off just their shirts, fingers trembling on buttons until one of them whispers encouragement against the shell of the other’s ear. They don’t even bother with their final layers as they rut against one another on the couch. They’re panting heavily in between heated kisses, desperate for more and more friction. Kurt’s still level headed enough to think to pull down their underwear just enough to let their cocks brush against one another. Blaine had thought just the sight of Kurt’s cock would be enough to throw him over the edge, but he makes it long enough for Kurt to stroke both of their cocks a handful of times before he does.

They don’t stop when they wordlessly make their way to the bathroom, Kurt watching quietly with a shy smile as Blaine sets up the shower, pulling him under the spray with a devilish smirk. The shower becomes redundant when they spend more time kissing than washing themselves. It’s more about exploring their newly naked bodies for the first time, taking their sweet time without a care for intrusions or running up the water bill. Blaine nearly passes out when Kurt sinks to his knees with a remarkable amount of grace. He glances down just in time to watch Kurt’s lips stretch wide over his cock, letting his head fall back against the shower wall with a groan.

They don’t stop when they finally make their way to the bedroom, still dripping from the shower. Neither of them let themselves linger on the fact that this is Blaine and Sebastian’s bed – this isn’t about that. This is about making up for years of unspoken, undying tension. They want it all, everything that they’ve been missing. Tentative, slow kisses. Hot and fast kisses. Hands and lips and fingers on skin. The burn of stretching around one another for the first time. The sound of their names on each other’s lips.

Blaine is the first one to say anything that isn’t a moan or a plea for _yes, more, please, right there, harder, faster._ He’s surprised his brain hasn’t short-circuited from overstimulation by now – and he knows his body is going to give him hell for all of this in the morning, but he can’t bring himself to care. His fingers are digging into Kurt’s hips in a bruisingly tight grip, his head thrown back against the headboard. He’d been convinced that Kurt bending him over the edge of the bed and pushing into him then and there was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced, but the sight and sensation of Kurt working himself up and down his cock is a very, _very_ close second. Kurt’s hands fall from where they were gripping the headboard, dropping down to rest on Blaine’s shoulders. His head falls forward, his breath coming out in labored pants as his thighs protest every minute movement. Blaine tilts his head forward, resting his forehead against Kurt’s.

“I love you,” he whispers warm against Kurt’s slightly parted lips.

Kurt hesitates, eyes sliding shut as he seats himself in Blaine’s lap. He swallows hard when Blaine’s hands leave his hips to cup his jaw. His eyes are a strange sort of sad when he finally meets Blaine's gaze.

“I love you, too,” he replies quietly, leaning in to kiss Blaine when it looks like he’s going to say something else.

* * *

_** January 2021 ** _

Kurt had been hesitant to schedule his engagement party so close to the holidays – everyone’s schedules would be all over the place, and it was really a season when they should be trying to save as opposed to spending. But it had felt right at the time. Adam would be heading home to England in a week to spend the holidays with his family, and Kurt back to Ohio to be with his own. It was one last celebration of their love before Adam headed across the pond for three weeks.

Naturally, Kurt didn’t anticipate that he’d get into the biggest fight he’s ever had with Adam the morning following the party. Kurt headed straight back to his apartment after he was forcibly removed from Blaine and Sebastian’s party – the small army of security guards ejecting him from the building with twisted satisfaction. He didn’t have any energy left in him to put on a brave face. He didn’t want to go back to his own party and pretend to smile and laugh with his friends and the few family members that were able to fly up for the weekend. He didn’t want to pretend that everything was okay. He curled up on his bed and sobbed until his throat ached. He knew he must’ve been a sight to behold when Hepburn leapt up onto the bed and licked at his hand until he stopped crying long enough to give her a pat on the head.

It wasn’t until the next morning that Kurt realized Adam hadn’t come back that night, concluding with a frown that he must’ve headed back to his own apartment after the party. He considered calling him, to explain himself and beg for forgiveness – but Adam showed up at his door moments later, eyes lined with dark circles and jaw set in a hard, deep frown.

They went at it for hours, Kurt apologizing as best he could – but Adam was too upset to just let Kurt apologize and move on. He asked Kurt over and over why he felt the need to go to Blaine’s party instead of settling things civilly, he asked him why he treated him, his _fiancé_ , like an afterthought. He’d been left alone and confused at a party that was supposed to be about _them,_ with crowds of people he hardly knew or had never even met. He was hurt – understandably so.

They ended things on a neutral note – Adam finally accepted Kurt’s apology, asking him to promise to never let whatever it is he has going on with Blaine get in the way of them or their wedding ever again. Kurt agreed instantly.

Adam flew out to England two days later. They didn’t see each other again before Adam left, both agreeing that it would be best if they gave themselves some time to cool off so they could start fresh in the new year.

The holidays are a blessing in disguise. Kurt’s able to lock away all of his thoughts about Adam and Blaine and Sebastian for a few blissful days. News of the engagement party fiasco had trickled down to his dad and Carole through Finn. Burt and Carole hadn’t been able to fly out for the party themselves due to Burt’s schedule, but they’d offered to host their own celebration with Kurt once he was back home in Lima. Plans for the celebration were quietly cancelled before Kurt arrived, and the topic was swiftly avoided whenever possible.

Kurt texts Blaine the day after he touches down in Lima, two days before Christmas. He tells him that he’s sorry, and that he hopes they can talk things through. And it’s the truth – he may still be upset with Blaine, but he is sorry too. He didn’t mean to air out their truth, especially not to Sebastian – but he was tipsy and angry and too overwhelmed by… well, everything, to give himself a minute to think before he spoke. As much as he detests Sebastian, he didn’t deserve to find out that way. If Kurt had it his way, Sebastian never would’ve found out at all. What he and Blaine did was more than a drunken mistake, and Sebastian would have to be blind not to see that.

His texts go unanswered, though he’s not surprised. Blaine probably has bigger things to worry about right now. But he holds onto the hope that there’ll be a response someday – all he has left is hope.

He gets his answer on Christmas morning, not in the form of a text, but a knock at the door. Finn is finally awake enough to drag himself out of bed, and the annual Hummel-Hudson Christmas breakfast can finally commence.

Kurt busies himself with preparing crepes while Carole cuts up some fresh fruit. He smiles at his latest text from Adam – a photo of him and his family’s dog curled up under the Christmas tree, a subtle, wordless confirmation that they’re still okay.

Carole turns down Finn’s pleas for bacon at first, not wanting to put such cholesterol filled temptation in front of Burt on a silver platter – but Burt promises he’ll behave himself, and it’s Christmas, so she gives in.

Finn inhales his first plate of crepes with inhuman speed, handing his plate up for seconds before Kurt’s even had a chance to touch his own plate. He’s nearly finished preparing Finn’s second serving when the doorbell snaps them out of their holiday daze. They exchange confused glances – Mercedes was planning on swinging by later in the afternoon, but they weren’t expecting any visitors that morning. Burt grunts as he pushes himself away from the table and shuffles off to the door. Kurt has returned his attention to not burning Finn’s crepes, when his dad calls out to him from the other room.

“Kurt, it’s for you!”

Kurt’s brows furrow as he shuts off the stove, setting the half cooked crepe aside. He quickly brushes his flour caked hands off on his apron, tossing it onto his chair. He’s not sure what to expect – but he certainly doesn’t expect to see Blaine standing on his doorstep.

“So you boys are bringing that tradition back after all?” Burt teases, pulling Blaine into the warmth of the entryway by the shoulders.

Kurt laughs nervously, nodding without taking his eyes off of Blaine. This had been a tradition once – Blaine showing up on Christmas morning to join the Hummel-Hudson’s for breakfast, and Kurt joining the Andersons for Christmas dinner, ever since their first year at NYADA. They’d suspended the tradition the previous year, after Blaine’s parents decided to come visit him and Sebastian in the city for a change. The morning had felt strange – the fifth seat at their dining table remaining vacant. But this year, that tradition had just become a memory.

“Hi,” Kurt whispers, shooting a look at his dad, signalling to him to give them some privacy.

“Hey,” Blaine replies once Burt is out of earshot, still not looking Kurt in the eye. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he answers quickly. He goes to grab Blaine’s hand on instinct, but catches himself at the last moment, letting his hand hover awkwardly at his side. “We uh… we can go to my room,” he mumbles, leading the way when Blaine nods in agreement.

They cross through the living room silently to get down to Kurt’s bedroom. Kurt pointedly ignores Finn’s not at all subtle gestures to get his attention. Carole slaps Finn’s hand as he tries to wave at both of them to find out what’s going on. Burt and Carole both share confused looks of concern, but keep their reactions to themselves. When Kurt’s phone buzzes in his pocket seconds later, he’s confident it’s Finn badgering him with questions as to why he and Blaine are suddenly talking again. Finn is many things, but respectful of boundaries isn’t one of them.

Kurt makes sure to lock the door behind him once they’ve reached his room. Blaine sits on the edge of his bed, the same place he always gravitates to whenever he comes by to visit. Kurt settles down at his vanity stool, which he deems an appropriate distance away from Blaine’s place on the bed. He doesn’t say anything – even though he’s spent countless hours since that night figuring out what exactly to say to Blaine if he ever let him in again. All of his thoughts went out the window the moment Blaine stepped through the door.

“It’s nice to see you,” he says. It feels like neutral ground.

Blaine nods, still not looking at Kurt when he says, “It’s nice to see you too,” ignoring the irony of the fact that he’s not actually _seeing_ Kurt. “Your room looks different,” he observes as he looks up from his hands to take in the room.

Kurt nods, shrugging his shoulders. “My dad uses it as an office most of the year, so he decided to spruce it up a bit. He said grey was too boring.”

Blaine hums, but doesn’t reply. He finally turns to look at Kurt, peering over his shoulder at where Kurt’s hands are folded on top of his knee. “You’re not wearing your ring,” he notes – but it’s not optimistic, like Kurt would have imagined. It’s wary.

Kurt crosses his arms defensively. He hadn’t bothered putting the ring on that morning – he knew he’d be busy in the kitchen and he didn’t want to run the risk of dirtying it more than he already has just from daily wear and tear. He looks over at his nightstand – where the ring sits propped up on top of his wallet. It’s then that he notices Blaine’s own hand, pressed against the bedspread.

There had once been a time that he’d secretly hoped that one day he would see Blaine without his ring – the first sign that things between him and Sebastian had changed. There’s no ring, but it doesn’t bring him any kind of happiness or satisfaction – it makes him feel sick.

“Neither are you,” he replies pointedly.

Blaine tugs at his bare finger, twisting as if the ring is still there. He nods slowly, inhaling sharply and sighing slowly. “Sebastian and I are over.”

It’s the words Kurt’s wanted to hear for nearly five years. His lips part, but no sounds – not even a gasp – come out. His heart pounds and he can hear his blood rushing in his ears, and if he wasn’t sitting down, he’s confident he would’ve collapsed. It doesn't feel anything like he’d expected – there’s no excitement or relief or happiness. It just feels like dread, because he knows that it’s all his fault.

“I’m sorry,” he manages to choke out, because it’s what feels right. He can’t imagine what Blaine must be going through. He’s surprised by how calm he seems – he wonders how long it’s been since they ended the engagement. Has he had time to make peace with it?

“It’s okay,” Blaine whispers, shrugging once again. “Feels like it was a long time coming,” he adds, which just confuses Kurt even more.

He can see that Blaine is struggling to find whatever it is he wants to say next, so Kurt remains silent. But Blaine takes things in an unexpected direction.

“Why didn’t you tell me Sebastian threw that rock salt slushie at you senior year?” he asks, voice just barely louder than a whisper, finally looking up at Kurt.

Kurt is taken aback, letting out an undignified ‘uh’ as he collects his thoughts. He’d made his peace with not knowing who was behind the incident that potentially cost him the opportunity of a lifetime – though it had taken more time than he cared to admit. It feels like a punch in the gut, the confirmation that Sebastian had been behind it. It’s not surprising, but it’s still jarring. But why would Blaine bring up the slushie incident now, so many years later?

“I didn’t have any proof that it was him, just a hunch,” he explains with a shrug. “And… I wasn’t sure if you would believe me.” He says it quietly, shyly. He doesn’t want to upset Blaine or make him think that he’s attacking him. But it’s the truth – he kept that secret because it meant he could keep Blaine, too.

“You should’ve told me,” Blaine protests, though not unkindly. “I never would’ve… I would’ve put an end to things between us if you’d told me,” he explains earnestly.

Kurt doesn’t know that he entirely believes that, but now’s not the time to start up another argument about something that’s been long buried.

“You seemed happy. I didn’t want to ruin things for you,” he says diplomatically. It’s true, in many ways. He didn’t want to disrupt his best friend’s happiness with what Blaine had already deemed a petty rivalry.

Blaine lets his head fall into his hands, his shoulders hunched in on him as he curls up as much as he can. “Sebastian told me everything,” he begins. “About the rock salt slushie, about finding you after work. About throwing away the invitation to your party before I could see it, and pushing for the same date because he knew it was the same as yours. About... about throwing away the invitation I wanted to send you.”

Kurt raises a brow at this particular reveal. He’s not surprised that Sebastian would be so childish as to throw away the invitations he and Blaine had tried to send one another, but he’s certainly surprised that he decided to come clean about it. He doesn’t dwell long either on the fact that his suspicions all those years ago have been confirmed – Sebastian had been behind the slushie incident after all. He’s still not surprised – but a part of him is relieved, and just a tiny bit vindicated.

“Did you tell him about us?” he asks, though he’s sure he knows what the answer will be.

Blaine nods, running a hand through his hair as he sits back up. “He said he could be okay with it if I promised I wouldn’t see you again.”

Kurt’s breath hitches. He locks eyes with Blaine, and it feels like there’s no one in the world but them. After all this time, Blaine finally chose him over Sebastian. And it’s not like before – the last time he’d thought Blaine had chosen him. There’s no condition, nothing Kurt has to do to make himself more vulnerable than he already has for Blaine to still choose him. He doesn’t have to tell Blaine to say no. Blaine did it all on his own. It feels like a dream, the kind that plagued him in the weeks following that night two summers ago.

“And you said no?” he asks, just to confirm that he isn’t imagining things.

Blaine nods, never letting his eyes leave Kurt’s – and if this had happened five years, two years, maybe even just a few months earlier, it would leave Kurt breathless.

But things are different now. He’s able to see through the fog that is all things Blaine, and think of Adam – his fiancé , the only other person he’s ever really let himself fall in love with. It feels wrong to even entertain the idea of what this might all mean for him and Blaine – because there shouldn’t be a him-and-Blaine anymore, not like this.

“I don’t know what to say,” is all Kurt can come up with – it’s as close to the truth as he can get.

Blaine shrugs, not pushing Kurt for an answer. “You don’t have to say anything,” he reassures after another moment or two of silence.

He slides off the edge of the bed, crossing the short distance between them until he’s standing in front of Kurt. He holds his hand out, offering it up to Kurt the way he has hundreds, if not thousands, of times – but Kurt worries about what it might mean if he takes Blaine’s hand this time.

He does it, but not without a moment of caution. He lets Blaine tug on him until he pulls himself out of his chair and faces Blaine properly. But when Blaine leans forward, moments from kissing him – he pushes him away.

“What’re you doing?!” he snaps, quickly creating some distance between them again. “I’m engaged, Blaine,” he tacks on, a fact that Blaine seems to refuse to acknowledge time and time again.

“I-I’m sorry, I-I-I… I thought you were...” he stammers, eyes falling to Kurt’s bare ring finger when he can’t find the right words to say what it is he assumed.

Kurt’s heart sinks – it feels like a betrayal to Adam, to let Blaine think for even a second that they were over. “No,” he says sternly, crossing the room and snatching his engagement ring off the nightstand. “We’re still together,” he says firmly as he slides the ring back on.

It feels like the turning of a lock, the ring settling into its usual place on his finger. Blaine looks down to the ground, shaking his head as he falls into the seat Kurt had previously been sitting in. “I’m so sorry,” he apologizes again, burying his head in his hands. “I-I thought that you… that you had ended things too.”

Kurt doesn’t have anything to say to that. He can’t imagine why Blaine would think that he and Adam had put an end to things, beside the ring oversight. Does Blaine really think he would end his engagement and not tell him about it?

“I thought that we could….” Blaine begins, but doesn’t finish.

“We could what?” Kurt snaps, harsher than he means to.

“That we could be… us,” he admits meekly, still not looking away from the ground.

Kurt’s shock evolves into upset like the flick of a switch. Did Blaine think that he could just show up at his doorstep, after months of refusing to talk to one another, and kiss him? Without bothering to ask him if he and Adam were still together, or how he was feeling, or whether or not this was something he still wanted?

Over a year ago, Kurt made a resolution to stop letting himself be Blaine’s back up option, and up until now he’d made good on that resolution. He’d met Adam, he’d gotten engaged – something he hadn’t even pictured for himself back then. He was finally taking the steps he needed to put his past with Blaine behind him and focus on himself for once – but Blaine has always had a terrible habit of foiling his plans.

Blaine, with his warm eyes and sweet words, who always knows just the right thing to say. Blaine, who is the best friend he’s ever had. Blaine, who he has loved since the day he met him. Blaine, who he’s spent the past five months convincing himself isn’t the person he’s meant to spend the rest of his life with.

“You can’t keep doing this,” Kurt says firmly, crossing his arms. “You can’t just expect me to drop everything just because you’re finally ready to be in love with me.”

“Kurt, I-I didn’t I–” Blaine begins to defend, but Kurt cuts him off.

“But you did,” he snaps back quickly. “You thought that no matter what, even if Adam and I were still together, that I would still want you over him!” he accuses, because he knows Blaine, he knows that he’s right.

Blaine shies away, shaking his head as he continues to refuse to meet Kurt’s eyes.

“You don’t get to show up, after we haven’t spoken in _months,_ and expect me to drop everything to be with you,” Kurt says much louder than he should, considering his family is just up the stairs. His hand trembles as he struggles to keep up his calm facade. “I waited for you for _seven_ years, and you decide to do this now? The minute I finally convinced myself that I was okay with letting the thought of you go?!” He shouts it this time. He doesn’t care if his dad, Finn, and Carole all know about him and Blaine now – he’s sure they’ve known for years.

But Blaine fights back this time, blinking back tears as he lunges himself out of his seat. “I didn’t decide to do this now! I decided to do this the night I told you about Sebastian’s goddamn proposal!” he shouts through his tears. “I put everything on the line for you, because I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering what it would be like to spend it with you instead of him! And you _left_ ….” His voice breaks, and the anger slowly melts away. “I was ready to change my entire life for you, and you…” He trails off, unable to hold back his tears long enough to finish his sentence. “You left me alone, like I meant nothing to you.”

Kurt swallows hard, unsure what to say. He thinks about that night more often than he cares to admit. During those first few weeks after it happened, it was all he could think about. He was finally starting up rehearsals for his first ever role on Broadway, and all he could think about was the way Blaine looked curled up on his side of the bed, sleeping peacefully, beautiful in the pale moonlight.

There were times when he thought about that night while he laid in bed with Adam. He didn’t think much of it at first – he’s an overthinker to the nth degree – he spends most restless nights wallowing in a number of regrets. But after Adam proposed, he pushed away the memory of that night. It’s not cheating to think about it, he told himself. What happened between them was long before he and Adam had even met – but it still felt wrong, to think about what might’ve happened if he’d had the courage to stay until the morning.

Blaine takes Kurt silence as an answer. “Forget it, “ he mumbles, pushing past him and out of the room with unexpected speed.

“Blaine, wait!” Kurt calls out, his body catching up a second later and chasing after him.

But Blaine is determined. He easily avoids Kurt’s grip, ignoring him until he’s bolted straight back out the front door, slamming it behind him roughly enough to make the hall table rattle. Kurt lets out a hitched breath as he hovers in the doorway, debating whether it makes sense to chase Blaine outside. He doesn’t take the risk, closing his eyes as he hears an engine start up and the sound of tires on the gravel.

He knows his family must be staring at him, at the spectacle going on in their entryway. He knows he’ll have to tell them everything – about their argument, about Sebastian and Blaine’s break up, and maybe even about him and Blaine. He keeps his eyes closed for just one more second, and lets himself pretend it’s the first Christmas Blaine spent with them – the smell of cinnamon and hot chocolate, the thrill of tearing open gift after gift, the warmth he felt inside of him when Blaine pulled him in for a bone crushing hug and thanked him for making it his best Christmas yet.

For just a few seconds, he lets himself pretend that everything is going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, endless thanks to Adri for making sense of my rambling comments and concerns! Only one more chapter to go ya'll LET'S DO THIS!

_** June 2018 ** _

Blaine’s body has never hated him more, he’s sure of it. Every part of him aches, from his joints to his head to his skin as he struggles just to roll over and turn off his alarm. He already knows he’s not going to be able to make it in to work. His supervisor has been nagging him for weeks to start using some of his PTO, and he doesn’t think he can get out of bed, much less make it down to Manhattan. Once his alarm is switched off, he flops back onto his bed with a groan, rubbing at his eyes and stretching as best he can.

The previous night is a blur, the details slowly starting to come together as he walks himself through the evening. He remembers meeting up with Kurt, he remembers the pounding in his chest as he struggled for what felt like hours to find the right way to tell Kurt that Sebastian had proposed.

And then he remembers the kiss. And all of the kisses following it, and the way Kurt’s skin felt under his fingertips and the way they clung to one another for hours, kissing and panting and moaning – as though they had to make up for all of the years they’d spent pretending that this wasn’t what they both wanted.

He still feels like absolute shit, but the thought of Kurt, of the way it felt to finally _finally_ kiss him, makes him smile. He turns over, extending his arm to pull Kurt in and hold him close – but the bed is empty. The sheets are still rumpled from where Kurt had fallen asleep, curled up on top of the covers, but they’re cold to the touch, no remnants of Kurt’s warmth left behind.

Blaine sits up as quickly as he can, ignoring the pounding in his head long enough to call out Kurt’s name. He waits a beat, cranes his neck to listen for any movement in the living room. When he doesn’t get a reply, he trudges out of the bedroom, blearily looking around the room for any sign that Kurt is still there. But everything looks the way it did before Blaine left for work yesterday. Kurt’s bag isn’t propped up beside the couch, his shoes aren’t on the rack by the door, and the ring box is still sitting on the coffee table – it’s as though Kurt was never there.

Blaine gives himself time to collect his thoughts before he reaches for his phone again. It’s only a few minutes past 7am – he doesn’t let himself think about how long Kurt’s been gone, about him traveling all the way back home at who knows what hour. There are no texts or missed calls or voicemails. He starts to panic when his first call to Kurt goes straight to voicemail, as does the second and the third. He tries to pull up Kurt’s location, feeling immensely grateful that they’d decided to continue sharing their locations with one another long after they’d stopped living together – but all he gets is a message reading “Service Unavailable.”

His hands tremble as he sets his phone down and wills his heart to stop pounding and his mind to stop racing long enough for him to collect his thoughts. He tries to take a deep breath, but doesn’t want to waste any more time than he already has. He’s not sure what to do – whether he should call Kurt’s dad, or try Kurt again, or maybe Sebastian, or… maybe even the police. He’s able to think clearly enough to not take any drastic measures just yet – it could just be that Kurt's phone died on his way home. He decides Rachel makes the most sense to try next. Thankfully, she picks up on the third ring.

“Blaine? Is everything okay?” she answers quickly, voice tense.

Blaine winces, realizing how concerning it must seem – he and Rachel hardly ever talk on the phone, and it must’ve been especially concerning for her to receive a call this early. “Y-yeah, sorry to call so early,” he apologizes quickly. “Is Kurt home?” he asks, voice weak, threatening to crack at any moment.

Rachel doesn’t bother masking her concern at the odd question. “He is,” she replies warily. “I’m not sure what time he got back last night – I assumed he was staying over at your place, but I found him passed out on the couch this morning.”

Blaine lets out a sigh of relief, eyes welling up with tears as he lets himself breathe easy for a second or two. “That’s – that’s great, thank you, Rach,” he thanks breathlessly, fanning himself as his heart continues to race.

“Is everything alright?” Rachel asks after a moment or two of silence. “Kurt sleeps like the dead, but he’s never let himself spend the night on the couch before.”

“Y-yeah. Everything’s fine,” he says, though the hum Rachel gives him in reply makes it clear she’s not convinced. “We drank a little more than we probably should have last night,” he tacks on.

“Well, I’m glad you both are safe,” she says, not bothering to mask her disapproval. “He probably forgot to plug in his phone once he got back. I’ll shoot you a text once he’s up and functioning again.”

Blaine thanks Rachel once again, preparing to hang up when she asks him one last question. “Are you feeling okay?”

He stays silent. His head feels like it’s about to split open, every inch of him hurts, and he now has to reckon with the fact that he bared his soul to Kurt last night and now he can see that he doesn’t feel the same way. No, he’s not okay.

“I’m fine. Just a hangover,” he mumbles.

“Take care of yourself – call me if you need anything, ‘kay?” Rachel insists.

Blaine nods even though Rachel can’t see him, thanking her one last time and ending the call. He breaks down the moment the screen goes dark, the reality of the situation finally beginning to settle in. He was finally honest with himself, honest with Kurt about what he’s wanted for years, and for a few blissful hours he’d thought Kurt had felt the same way.

Those few moments before he’d fallen asleep were some of the happiest he’d had in years – falling asleep with Kurt’s body pressed warm to his, resting easy in the knowledge that Kurt loved him. There were no thoughts of Sebastian or about the implications of what everything between them meant – it was just him and Kurt, smiling at one another as they slowly drifted off to sleep, their fingers linked in the space between them.

It had felt indescribably wonderful, being able to lean in and kiss Kurt simply because he wanted to. Kurt had batted him away with a quiet giggle as Blaine gave him one last kiss, and then another and another, insisting that they get some rest. He finds himself wishing he’d kissed Kurt one last time anyway. He’d given in without a fight, smiling at the thought of waking up in the morning and getting to kiss Kurt again.

He never thought he’d be waking up alone.

* * *

_** January 2021 ** _

Kurt decides not to tell Adam about the almost-kiss. He and Adam left things off the way they did so they could start fresh in the new year. There’s no need to stain their clean slate right off the bat with an inevitable argument. Besides, nothing _really_ happened – he stopped Blaine before things could get too far, and he hasn’t spoken to Blaine since – it’s nothing that Adam needs to worry about.

At first, he worries that things won’t go back to normal – that something has fundamentally shifted between him and Adam, and they’ll never be able to go back to what they were before. Kurt spends the two days before Adam returns doing what he can to calm himself and erase all thoughts and concerns about what happened in Lima. He’s able to put aside his anger eventually – like with every other argument they’ve had before, there comes a point when he’s ready to forgive if it means he can have Blaine back.

But things are different this time. He doesn’t reach out to Blaine, not yet – though he’s still not sure what he’ll say when he does. He won’t reach out until he’s sure that things are okay with Adam. It’s an important first step, learning to always put Adam before Blaine.

To his surprise, they quickly fall into their same old routine once Adam’s back in the city. He goes straight to Kurt’s apartment from the airport. They chat about their holidays while making dinner together, laughing and smiling the way they always do.

“Next year will be different though,” Adam says after he finishes off a story about his New Year’s Eve antics with some of his college friends. “We’ll celebrate as a family.” He takes Kurt’s hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles that makes him nervous and anxious and excited all at once. He’s not quite sure what to say – so he kisses him instead.

Kurt does what he can to skirt around the subject of wedding planning, but there comes a point where it becomes unavoidable if they want things to stay on track. He doesn’t bother Adam with many of the details, taking the brunt of the responsibility upon himself. Adam doesn’t protest, smiling and nodding whenever Kurt goes off on one of his tangents about color schemes or tablecloth shades. It’s a relief, in many ways – Kurt loves wedding planning, he always has. It’s easy to let himself get lost in all of it – prepping Save the Dates and scheduling cake tastings and browsing for potential centerpieces. Every time he starts to let himself think about Blaine and what he might be doing, he focuses on the wedding again. It’s a welcome distraction.

In between his show schedule and running across town from appointment to appointment, he starts to make space for Adam in his apartment. They’ve yet to discuss the specifics of Adam moving in after his lease ends in February – but Kurt isn’t too concerned. Adam practically lives with him already, it’s just a matter of making things official. He clears out two drawers for him in the closet. He takes down some of the artwork he has hanging in the living room to make space for Adam’s photography collection. He does everything he can to make sure Adam will feel welcome.

“Oh! I got us appointments for fittings at that boutique on the Upper East Side,” he announces excitedly while preparing dinner one night. “They didn’t have any Monday evening appointments - so I’ll go next Tuesday, and you can go Saturday morning with Evan and–”

“Ethan,” Adam interrupts.

“Who?” Kurt asks with a quirked eyebrow, looking up from his tray of brussel sprouts.

“His name is Ethan, not Evan.”

Kurt frowns – he could’ve sworn Adam’s best man’s name was Evan. Granted, he’d only met him once briefly over FaceTime, but he’s always prided himself on being good with names. He shrugs, turning back to his brussel sprouts, when he hears Adam’s footsteps behind him.

“We should talk,” he says, reaching out to take Kurt’s arm, gently guiding him away from the stove.

“That’s never a good sign,” he tries to tease, but he sounds as nervous as he feels. Adam had been tense all night – all week, really – but Kurt had brushed it off. Adam had mentioned having some issues with a coworker the previous week, so he’d assumed it was all work related stress.

Adam guides him back to the couch, never releasing his hold on his arm, and never meeting his gaze either. It takes him several seconds to finally speak up, inhaling deeply and clasping his hands together as he begins.

“Kurt, I know you’ve been really caught up in the wedding planning, and that’s great – I really appreciate everything that you’ve been doing.” Kurt tenses, he can sense the but that’s coming.

“But… you’ve just been distant, lately. It feels like the wedding is all we talk about, which is fine, I know that you’re excited – but sometimes I just want to sit down and have a chat with you about your day.”

Kurt breathes a sigh of relief, giving Adam a shaky smile. He hadn’t known what to expect, but this isn’t nearly as bad as where his mind was ready to go. Sure, he’s probably been a bit too overzealous when it comes to wedding planning – it’s nothing he can’t change.

“I’m sorry. I know I tend to go a bit overboard when I’m excited about something,” he says quickly, giving Adam a smile.

“I know you do, and I love that about you,” Adam replies, but he doesn’t return Kurt’s smile. “But I… I remember you once said that this is a _thing_ for you. Throwing yourself into something. Fixating on things when you’re worried, or stressed.”

Kurt realizes that he’d become so absorbed in preparing for his future with Adam that he hadn’t noticed the cracks in their present.

Kurt swallows hard. He hadn’t thought of the wedding planning that way, at least not consciously. But then again, he’d never about his other fixations that way before either. It wasn’t until Blaine had pointed it out to him during their junior year that he’d realized this was his _thing._ Focusing on the minute to avoid the major.

Sometimes he forgets how much he’s opened up to Adam – he’s not used to anyone other than Blaine understanding how he functions. It had taken an enormous amount of courage for him to tell Adam about the way he handles his anxiety, but it had felt like a step in the right direction for their relationship. It was only a matter of time before Adam started to put the pieces together.

“Did something happen?” Adam asks, reaching out to take Kurt’s hands. “You know you can always talk to me about this kind of stuff, right?”

Kurt nods, hanging his head – half in shame, and half to avoid Adam’s eyes. It was stupid, thinking it was better to hide the truth from Adam instead of telling him from the start. It’s yet another thing he has to learn – to trust that it’s always okay to tell Adam the truth.

“Blaine stopped by while I was in Lima,” he says in one swift breath. “It was just weird seeing him again.”

And yet, even when he tells himself that it’s better to tell the truth, he can’t do it.

“Oh… did you both patch everything up?” he asks in surprise.

Kurt shrugs, shaking his head. “Not really. Just more of the same old argument.”

He knows he doesn’t sound convincing, but he can’t stop himself. He stands back up, rushing off to get back to the kitchen, murmuring something about not wanting the carrots to get too soggy, when Adam stops him in his path.

“Kurt, what happened?” His voice deepens, the way it always has during the few arguments they’ve had.

It’s the tone of Adam’s voice that finally breaks him. “Blaine tried to kiss me,” he admits all in one breath.

He winces on instinct, waiting for the dam to break, for everything to fall apart – but Adam stays quiet. Kurt peeks up at him nervously – he looks more confused than angry or upset.

“Did you kiss him back?”

“No!” he answers quickly, with more emphasis than is really necessary. “I-I pushed him away, a-and told him to leave. And I haven’t seen him since then.”

His heart clenches as Adam nods in understanding, walking away but still not saying anything. Kurt bites his lip as he waits for Adam to say something, anything – his heart pounding louder and louder with each passing second of silence. He’d rather Adam blow up or scream at him than not say anything at all. Adam sits down on the edge of the couch, eyes to the ground as he wrings his fingers.

“If nothing happened, why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks in barely a whisper.

“I-I didn’t think it mattered.” It’s not a lie, but he’s not sure it’s really the truth either.

It turns out Adam feels the same way. “If it didn’t matter then why have you been hyper fixating on the wedding?”

Kurt realizes he’s caught. His mouth hangs open, but he can’t think of anything worth saying. Adam takes his silence as an answer.

“Kurt, please, be honest with me. What is going on with you two? And don’t say that you’re just friends, because that’s clearly not true.” His voice cracks at the end, his lower lip trembling as his eyes fill with tears.

Kurt's stomach twists as he realizes that he’s never seen Adam cry before. He even kept up a brave face when they watched _Marley & Me, _letting Kurt cry into his shoulder for nearly fifteen minutes. It breaks his heart, realizing that he’s broken Adam’s.

“We slept together once. Before you and I met,” he finally confesses. It feels like a weight off of his shoulders, finally willingly telling someone the truth about him and Blaine. It makes it feel more real, and less like something that only exists in their memories. “I didn’t tell you because…”

He hesitates, trying to understand why he never told Adam. It’s not because it didn’t mean anything – it _had_ meant something.

“Because you’re in love with him,” Adam finishes for him.

“What?”

Adam looks up at Kurt this time, tears streaming freely down his cheeks. “You’re in love with Blaine,” he says more confidently this time.

“It’s not like that.”

It’s not the first time he’s said those exact same four words to Adam. The first time had been after Adam had met Blaine for the first time, about two weeks into them making their relationship official. He’d watched warily as Kurt and Blaine shared inside jokes and stories with miles long context, later telling Kurt that he’d never felt like more of an outsider – which was saying a lot, he added, he’s a Brit living in America. The second time had been after he’d spent three hours on the phone with Blaine after they’d had to cancel on meeting up for dinner. He knows that there’s been a third and a fourth, and maybe even a fifth, time but he can’t remember what it was about Blaine that had set him off. Maybe it was a text message, or they looked into each other’s eyes for too long, or he didn’t like the way Kurt talked about him. There have been many things Adam hasn’t liked about Blaine.

“Then what is it, Kurt?” he snaps, not bothering to wait for Kurt to reply before continuing. “I _love_ you, Kurt. I want to spend the rest of my life with you – but I’m not going to be your second choice. That’s not fair to me.”

Kurt goes to block Adam’s path to the door, prepared to protest that Adam _is_ his first choice, he’s always been his first choice. But he hesitates. He thinks about what he said to Blaine in Lima. For the first time in months, he lets himself think about the night that Blaine told him he loved him. He thinks about how it felt to spend years thinking that he was Blaine’s second choice. He thinks about all of the pain and hurt he’d felt, knowing that the person he loved was in love with somebody else. It’s an all-consuming pain, the type of pain that you can’t shake off no matter how hard you try. It’s not something he would ever wish on anyone.

So, he says nothing, and lets Adam leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! :) And while I have you here: I'm very lucky to have been nominated for best new author in the [Klaine fic awards ](https://klaineccfanficlibrary.tumblr.com/post/624735052056641536/klaine-and-cc-fanfic-awards-vote-for-your#notas)on Tumblr![ One More Day is Not Enough](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17697464/chapters/41746223) is nominated as well for Best New Fic and Best Cheerios!Klaine! If you happen to enjoy my work I'd be endlessly grateful for your vote! And if you don't vote for me, I'm amongst some really wonderful company that I'd highly encourage you to check out ;)
> 
> [here's the voting link!](https://s.surveyplanet.com/De3tXBDK9) thank you SO much :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off - thank you to so much to every single person that has followed along on this journey since the beginning, your support while writing this story has been incredible and I appreciate it so, so, so much!
> 
> Second - there will never be enough words for me to convey my gratitude for my AMAZING beta, Adri! She adds depth and sense in waves to my work, and it wouldn't be the same without her invaluable input.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

_** June 2018 - October 2018 ** _

Kurt doesn’t sleep. He closes his eyes moments after Blaine does, but that just leaves him alone with his thoughts – so he stares at the ceiling and waits for something within him to change. He turns over and watches Blaine as he slowly drifts to sleep, his unfairly long eyelashes fluttering against the apple of his cheek. He thinks of all the times he’s watched Blaine sleep before – curled up on the same twin bed when one of them accidentally locked themselves out of their dorm room, on an ill-advised camping trip their sophomore year, dozens of times in the their first apartment, falling asleep together after movie nights or parties, or just because they didn’t want to sleep alone.

He feels elated and excited and anxious and sick to his stomach all at once. His hand trembles where it’s still clasped between Blaine’s, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts as reality starts to sink in. He just slept with Blaine. His best friend. His best friend who he’s been in love with since the day he met him. His best friend who he’s in love with, who’s dating someone else.

Kurt doesn’t often feel anything but contempt for Sebastian, but the guilt comes and settles all too quickly in the pit of his stomach. Every time thoughts of Sebastian and the proposal crept up on him earlier, he was able to push them back down by telling Blaine to kiss him or touch him or by doing it himself. But the guilt is impossible to ignore now – there are reminders of the life Sebastian and Blaine have built together all around him. Sebastian’s tennis shoes piled neatly in a corner, his suits pressed and hung in the closet, photos of them on the wall beside their bed – it feels like Sebastian is everywhere he turns.

He finally pulls his hand out of Blaine’s, sitting up and pulling his knees to his chest. He does what he can to calm himself, trying to take deep breaths, trying to tell himself that everything’s going to be okay – but doubts and insecurities and fear outweigh the hope and excitement he’d felt just an hour earlier.

He wants to focus on the joy – Blaine _loves_ him. For a few fleeting hours, it had felt like everything was going to be okay, he and Blaine could finally kiss and touch and love each other the way they’ve always wanted to. But it can’t be that simple – Kurt knows that, and maybe Blaine doesn’t want to see that yet, but soon he will too. He _lives_ with Sebastian – they’ve been together for years, their lives are intertwined in ways Kurt can’t even imagine.

For a fleeting second, Kurt lets himself wonder what it would feel like to let his life intertwine with Blaine’s that way – a way he’s never entwined himself with another person before. He thinks about his suits in Blaine’s closets and the right side of the bed smelling like him instead of Sebastian’s obnoxious cologne. He lets himself wonder what it would feel like to wake up every morning with Blaine, open to the possibility of forever.

And then, the fear hits him – all at once, like a ton of bricks. The fear that in the morning, Blaine will realize that this isn’t what he wants. Maybe this is just an urge he needed to scratch at least once before settling down. A one time thing, just to be sure. Maybe it was something he’d thought he’d always wanted, but once he got a taste of it, he realized it wasn’t what he thought it would be. Sebastian is stable, Sebastian is all that he’s known for years. Sebastian is _safe._ Kurt is just his best friend.

This feeling isn’t unfamiliar – he remembers that same excitement blooming in his chest when Blaine had told him he loved him back. He can still remember the crushing, sinking feeling when he realized that Blaine didn’t love him the way that he’d thought. Kurt’s already been broken once, and he doesn’t know that he can put himself back together a second time.

The thought of Blaine waking up and realizing Kurt isn’t what he wants after all makes his stomach clench and his vision blur with tears. His vision tunnels, and he feels like he’s going to throw up or pass out or both. He blearily stumbles out of bed, grabbing his scattered clothing. He’s working on autopilot, running on pure adrenaline to get himself out of Blaine’s apartment before he can overthink things anymore than he already has.

But once he’s dressed, he hesitates. He stops in the doorway to the bedroom, watching Blaine sleep peacefully. He is, and always will be, the most beautiful person Kurt has ever known. Every part of him wants to crawl back into bed and cling to the curve of Blaine’s back and hold him until the morning. His heart wants it too – his heart wants it so badly, it feels suffocating. Everything he’s ever wanted is curled up just a few feet away.

But crawling back to Blaine means sacrificing the wall he’s been building around himself since the day he told Blaine he loved him. It means stepping out onto the battlefield without armor, ready and willing for all of the pain that could come.

In the end, the fear of Blaine breaking him outweighs the hope.

* * *

Blaine calls him fourteen times that day. He leaves seven voicemails. He sends thirteen text messages. Kurt doesn’t have the strength to go through all of them. He gets through the first four voicemails – listening to Blaine hold back tears as he asks Kurt if he’s okay, if he got home safely, if it was something he did. Blaine breaks down in the fourth message, voice cracking into a sob as he asks Kurt to please call him back.

He deletes all of them.

He wants to give himself time – time to process, time to reconcile with the idea of Blaine choosing Sebastian. He wants to wait until he knows he can stand the possibility of rejection before he reaches out to Blaine again. He composes text after text, ranging from _I just need some time_ to _I’m so in love with you it drives me crazy._ He never sends any of them, telling himself that sending even a single text message will weaken his resolve, will make him want to make a decision before he’s ready.

Blaine calls him every day. Sometimes more than once. Sometimes he leaves a voicemail. He talks to Kurt the way he would if he were with him. He talks about his day, about work, about how Feta’s doing. Sometimes he’ll say that he misses him. He always ends the call abruptly – as though he’s not sure what to say, or afraid of what it is he wants to say.

Kurt jumps every time there’s a knock at the door, worried that Blaine has finally gotten fed up with Kurt’s silent treatment. He hides in his room and calls out to Rachel to ask her to answer the door for him, holding his breath until he can hear the door closing again and the sound of Rachel breaking open a package.

It takes ten days. Ten days for Kurt to just think of Blaine’s name without feeling the urge to cry or scream. Ten days for Kurt to feel okay with the possibility that Blaine doesn’t want him the way that he’d thought.

He’s curled up on the couch, his phone sitting in front of him, opened up to Blaine’s contact page. He rehearses what he wants to say in his head for what feels like the hundredth time. He’ll start with an apology – explaining that he knows it was childish and stupid to avoid communication, but he just needed some time to process everything. It was just too much, too fast. Then he’ll ask Blaine how he’s been doing, casual conversation. Then he’ll–

“Kurt!” Rachel exclaims as she storms into the apartment, disrupting his train of thought.

“Where’s the fire?” he asks as he watches her flail around, tossing off her coat and bag and rushing to sit down beside him on the couch.

“You’ll never believe who I ran into on the subway,” she says breathlessly. She pauses for effect, letting Kurt take a stab at guessing before she continues.

“Barbra Streissand,” he answers dryly, really not in the mood for Rachel’s antics right now.

“Don’t be a smart ass,” she chides while smacking his arm. “I was waiting in line to refill my MetroCard, and I swore the guy waiting in front of me looked familiar, and just as he was about to walk away, I realized it was Blaine!”

Kurt stiffens, inhaling sharply at the mere mention of Blaine. He wants to ask her if he looked okay, if he said anything about him or asked about him, but he hesitates for half a second. And then she says it.

“Why didn’t you tell me that he’s engaged?!”

Kurt’s stomach sinks. He feels like the floor has been pulled from under his feet, and he’s falling with no hope of ever hitting the ground. He wants to run into his room and lock the door and never come back out. He wants to sob and scream and tell the world to stop spinning for one fucking second so he can process what just happened.

Rachel looks at him expectantly, nudging him slightly. “Hey, you okay?” she asks quietly, resting a hand on his knee.

“Y-yeah, I just…” He can’t finish – he can’t string together any thoughts that aren’t _BlaineBlaineBlaineBlaineisengagedtoSebastianBlainedoesn’tloveme_. “I need a minute,” he says before rushing back to his room, locking the door behind him before sinking to the ground.

He curls in on himself, pulling his knees to his chest as he tries to make himself as small as possible. Maybe if he can make himself small enough, he’ll just disappear. He doesn’t care if Rachel can hear as he lets it all out at once, sobbing into his hands. It all slowly comes together – Blaine said yes to Sebastian’s proposal. Blaine’s confession of love hadn’t meant anything after all. Blaine is engaged. To somebody else.

Kurt’s already had his heart broken by Blaine before. Freshman year, sending signs and signals to let Blaine know that he was open to something more. Senior year, telling him he loved him. But this heartbreak is the slowest – it takes it’s time clinging to every part of him and overwhelming him until it’s all he can think about. It slowly sucks him dry. Every movement, every breath, feels inexplicably linked to the knowledge that Blaine has moved on.

His phone buzzes incessantly in his pocket, buzzing and buzzing and begging for his attention. He pulls it out to shut it off, only to see Blaine’s name and face lighting up the screen. The photo of him and Blaine, hugging so tightly their faces are squished together, feels like salt on every wound. He ignores the call, tossing his phone as far away from him as he can, without a single care as to whether his phone will survive the fall. He hopes it doesn’t – maybe then he can finally be far away enough from Blaine that he can start to feel like he can breathe again.

The buzzing fades away several seconds later, chiming after a minute or two – announcing that Kurt has a new voicemail. When Kurt finally finds the strength to move from his place against the door, he deletes the message. He doesn’t want to hear Blaine’s voice. He doesn’t want to hear what he has to say.

It turns out ten days wasn’t long enough for Kurt to reconcile with the possibility of heartbreak.

* * *

_Hey.... it’s me. I, um… I ran into Rachel today, and knowing her she’s probably told you this already, but I wanted to try calling anyway, to see if I could maybe catch you beforehand… There’s no easy way for me to say this… but I, uh… I-I said yes to Sebastian. He kept asking about it a-and I hadn’t heard anything from you and I panicked and… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be making excuses I… I just wish I could’ve talked to you beforehand. And that’s my fault, I guess. I should’ve tried harder, but I know how you are when you want to be alone and… and I guess I was scared. Scared that I’d finally get to see you again and you’d say… that it was a mistake. That you didn’t mean what you said… I don’t really know why I’m doing this. Any of this. This voicemail or… this with Sebastian… I should stop while I’m ahead. I don’t know if you’ve been listening to my other messages but… I miss you like crazy. I wish... I hope you’re okay. I hope we can see each other soon. Or just talk. I’ll take anything, really. Even a postcard… I love you, Kurt. I’ve loved you for a really long time. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being in love with you. You’re that kind of person - the kind that you can’t fall out of love with no matter how hard you try, y’know? And even if… I’m going to stop now. Okay. I’m sorry._

* * *

Things get worse before they get better. A month goes by. It feels like a year. Kurt doesn’t realize how interwoven his life is with Blaine’s until he’s not there anymore. The gaps in his day that Blaine once filled drag on for hours. He tries to fill the gaps as best he can – with television, walks in the park, plans with Rachel, band rehearsal. He even takes up cross stitching again. But it all feels shallow. At the end of the day, he’s still missing the person that knows him better than anyone else. He still doesn’t have his best friend.

Rehearsals for _Cursed Child_ start up the following week. He’s able to throw himself into choreography and dialect work and running lines to the point that it’s all he thinks about. He lets Rachel interrupt his bubble of productivity every now and then for dinner and a movie on the couch. Rachel is unusually kind and gentle with Kurt those first few weeks after _The Incident_. He doesn’t think much of it – he knows he probably looks as terrible as he feels. He’s always worn his heart on his sleeve, now everyone can see that it’s been broken. But, as always seems to be the case with Rachel, her kindness comes with a fine print.

“Our lease is up next month,” she mentions casually one night. Kurt hums in reply, too focused on his latest cross stitching project to pay her much mind. “And I was thinking we could… not renew it,” she suggests, wincing the minute Kurt looks up at her.

“What?” he snaps – not bothering with pleasantries or politeness. He’d been under the impression that he and Rachel would be renewing their lease for another year – maybe even two years.

“It’s just that someone from the ensemble – Harmony, you remember her? Was once the Gerber baby?” She pauses, giving Kurt a moment to recall, but continues on when she sees that he’s clearly not in the mood to reminisce about meeting her castmates. “She put an ad out for a roommate to move into this _gorgeous_ apartment with her in Tribeca. Kurt, it’s perfect – it’s near the subway, and has a doorman, and laundry in unit – in unit, Kurt! And the rent is actually something I can afford… It was too perfect to pass up.”

“Oh, of course – so perfect that you’re alright with screwing me over,” he protests, throwing his cross stitch onto the coffee table and storming off to his room.

“Kurt, please I–”

“I don’t want to hear it, Rachel!” he shouts back. “I have to figure out where the fuck I’m going to live next month!” he adds before slamming the door behind him, ending the conversation.

He knows he’s being too harsh and unreasonable. Rachel isn’t obligated to continue being his roommate – and he knows how badly she wants to live in Manhattan. It’s all she’s talked about since she moved to Bushwick. He can apologize in the morning, he tells himself – he’s allowed to be upset right now. He can’t afford to pay the full rent for their apartment on his own, and finding a new apartment or a new roommate is the last thing he wants to deal with right now. Well, maybe it’s for the best. One more thing to keep him from thinking about Blaine.

* * *

Kurt’s still pissed off at Rachel even after he’s settled into his new place – though he has to admit, it didn’t work out too terribly in the end. He’s able to find himself a studio in Harlem that’s on the higher end of his budget, but still doable. He decides to try to find a place for just him after the first few potential roommates he meets are more concerning than promising. The apartment is spacious enough that he can create the illusion of a separate bedroom with some well placed shelving units and bookshelves – and most importantly, it belongs to him and only him.

The move itself is a pain in the ass – he’s always hated moving, but not having a roommate around to help out with the load makes things that much harder. He decides to pass on a moving company when the quote he gets for moving a couple of pieces from Brooklyn to Harlem makes him audibly gasp. He considers texting Blaine for help – finally bridging the gap that he’s created himself. But moving makes Kurt angry and unpleasant to be around – it’s not the frame of mind he should be in when he sees Blaine again.

Once every box is unpacked and every package has been delivered and all of the furniture is assembled, Kurt realizes that there’s one major problem with this new venture. He’s alone. Well, he has Hepburn, but she couldn’t care less about his existential angst. He’s read every book, watched every movie, and binged every show. He’s all out of cross stitching supplies, and yarn for knitting. He’s completed every puzzle and listened to every podcast and played every song until he can’t stand it anymore.

There’s nothing left to keep him from facing reality.

* * *

Kurt Hummel is nothing if not creative. And ambitious. He’s always been a pleasant combination of the two – if he says so himself, at least.

Enrolling in an improv comedy class while on a Broadway show schedule is a decision that many might call foolish, but what Kurt calls a personal and professional investment. He really needs to work on his comedic timing, and his improv could always use more work. Plus, he’s meeting new people like him – well, most of the class is NYU students, but he _does_ meet one person that’s in his age range. And sure, he and Adam (or at least that’s what he thinks his name is) aren’t all that alike – but he’s a refreshing change of pace from the dramatic people Kurt has in his life.

He’d signed up for a number of different types of classes after moving into his new apartment. Pilates, cooking, more pilates, advanced tap dancing, kickboxing – if it had a one-week free trial, he signed up for it.

Pilates had been a bit much, he’ll admit – he’s fine with doing his daily yoga routine from the comfort of his home. The cooking classes had been nice, but the instructor hadn’t taken kindly to his suggestions when it came to spicing their chicken breast. The tap dancing and kickboxing had been a welcome challenge – but not worth the price tag that came along with a full membership.

It’s a busy few months – busier than he’s been in a long time, and it’s a welcome change of pace. He abandons the grudge he’d been holding against Rachel once he finally visits her at her new place. It really is the type of place that’s too perfect to pass up. Her and Harmony are at each other’s throats half the time, but she still loves her little nook in the heart of Manhattan.

“In a perfect world, you’d be here too,” she’d said as she nudged her shoulder against his as they sipped champagne on her balcony.

 _In a perfect world, indeed,_ he’d thought. Over time he gets used to the silence that comes with living on his own. Before long, he even starts to appreciate it. He can finally cook whatever he wants, watch whatever he wants, and listen to whatever he wants, whenever he wants. One day, while cooking dinner, he realizes his Spotify playlist has run its course, and that he’s been standing in the kitchen in silence for the past twenty minutes. He smiles, and sags with relief. It’s the first time he’s not immediately consumed by thoughts of Blaine the moment there wasn’t something to distract him from the silence.

The wound Blaine left behind heals in time too, but the sting lingers. He’s bitter for a long time – a longer amount of time than he cares to admit. He tells himself it’s okay to be bitter because he’s hurt, but months of reflection (and tele-therapy, at his dad’s insistence) show him that bitterness doesn’t hurt anyone but himself in the end.

He’s sitting on the couch one day, watching reruns of Gilmore Girls, when the urge hits him. He rolls his eyes at Rory’s latest romantic exploit, and reaches for his phone on instinct, opening up a blank text message to Blaine without thinking. He has the message half typed out – a reference to an argument they’d once had in college about whether Blaine was more of a Lorelai or a Rory (he’s clearly a Rory) – when he realizes what he’s doing. He sits up slightly, brow furrowing as it dawns on him. He was able to think of Blaine without being swallowed whole by the sadness that’s been shrouding him for months.

He’s started thinking of Blaine as his best friend again.

He bites his lip, highlighting the message and erasing it before typing out something new. Something simple. The start of something new.

_Hey. Would you have any time to meet up next week?_

He hits send before he can overthink things the way he always does, immediately opening up a fresh text to his therapist, telling her that he texted Blaine. Her response is almost immediate – _Progress!!!!!!!!!!_

Kurt nearly jumps out of his skin when the reply from Blaine comes in not even a minute later. His breath is caught in his throat as he scans the message once, twice, three times – excited in a way he hasn’t been in months.

_Yeah. Always._

* * *

_** February 2021 - April 2021 ** _

Blaine is bouncing on his toes from the moment he wakes up. He spends the morning tidying up as best he can – there’s not all that much he can really do, considering this isn’t his apartment, after all. He vacuums the carpet, reorganizes the clutter on the dining room table, and lines up the shoes stacked by the door. Sam stumbles out of his room just after noon, rubbing at his eyes lazily as Blaine fluffs the couch pillows.

“This place hasn’t looked this clean since I moved in,” he observes as he shuffles into the kitchen to pour himself a bowl of cereal.

“Kurt’s coming over later today,” Blaine explains, both to answer his question and gently remind him about the conversation they’d had last week.

“Oh right, right,” Sam replies with a nod. “Cool. I’ll be out of your hair in ten.” He scarfs down a couple more enormous spoonfuls of cereal, lifting up the bowl to soak up the last of the milk before smacking his lips and heading off to the bathroom.

Blaine shudders, shaking off the image of Sam unhinging his jaw like a snake to take that last bite, refocusing on the task at hand. The text had been unexpected – he hadn’t heard from Kurt since that morning in Lima. He hasn’t really heard anything at all from Kurt for months. He’d been half convinced he was dreaming when he read the message after he’d woken up.

_Hey. Would you have any time to meet up next week?_

It feels like deja vu. He’s not sure if Kurt meant to send word for word the same message he’d sent him over two years ago. He wonders if that text had meant something to Kurt too, or if it was something he’d sent without thinking. Something casual. Because it had meant the world to Blaine.

He doesn’t mean to send the same word for word response as what he sent last time. But it’s the only thing he can think to say that feels right.

_Yeah. Always._

Sam wishes him luck on his way out the door, asking for a heads up text when he’s good to return to the apartment. Blaine thanks him with a shy smile. He’d felt guilty asking Sam for the apartment to himself, considering it’s not actually his apartment. Sam’s already done him the massive favor of letting him and Feta crash on his couch while he looks for a new place. The apartment hunting process has been painfully slow – the pickings are slim this time of year, and the few places he’s found that he actually liked were well out of his modest price range.

He still has to head back to his old apartment to collect the last of his things, but he’s not ready to see Sebastian just yet. He’s sure Sebastian doesn’t want to see him either, but at least he gets to stay in the place that they’ve called home for the past three years. It’ll feel odd, seeing Sebastian again. The last time he’d seen Sebastian, Blaine had screamed until his throat was hoarse. He’d stormed out of the apartment in tears, every part of him shaking with rage. He’d never let himself get so angry before – but he couldn’t help it. The thought of Sebastian, a person he thought he’d loved for _years_ hurting Kurt, landing him in the hospital, made him physically sick.

He shakes off all thoughts of Sebastian, splashing some cold water on his face to clear his head. He’s done enough thinking about Sebastian over the past two months. He’s done enough thinking about Kurt to last a lifetime too – but it’s time for those thoughts to finally turn into action.

All of his attempts to occupy his attention are pointless – he’s practically buzzing out of his skin by the time the doorbell finally rings. He rockets out of his seat, pressing the buzzer for the front door at record speed. He takes one last deep breath as he hears footsteps approaching on the other side of the apartment door, pulling it open before Kurt even has a chance to knock.

“Hi,” he says, already breathless from the mere sight of Kurt – as pristine and flawless and beautiful as ever.

“Hi,” Kurt replies, smiling nervously. He leans onto his toes slightly, peeking over Blaine’s shoulder. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Blaine answers quickly, mentally slapping himself for not inviting Kurt in right off the bat.

Kurt takes in the apartment slowly, letting Blaine take his bag and coat before settling down on the edge of the couch. Feta, who had previously been asleep in his bed in the kitchen, comes to life the moment Kurt sits down, scampering as quickly as he can to hop into Kurt’s lap.

“Hi sweet baby,” Kurt coos as he nuzzles Feta against his chest, scratching behind his ears and laughing softly as he licks excitedly at Kurt’s face.

“He missed you,” Blaine muses as he sits down beside Kurt, biting his tongue before he can add, “we both did.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to Sam’s place before,” Kurt says as he scoops Feta into his arms, eyebrows scrunched together as he takes in the framed poster of a bikini model over the TV. “It’s… interesting.”

“Yeah…” Blaine replies, quickly glancing at the dining room table to ensure that he’d tucked away Sam’s questionable stack of _Sports Illustrated_ magazines. “I’m hoping I can find a new place by the end of this month – I have a meeting with a broker on Tuesday.”

Kurt nods, keeping his eyes on Feta as the pup settles back into his lap and quickly slips back to sleep. “You’re giving up your old place then?” he asks delicately.

Blaine shrugs, wringing his fingers together nervously as he replies. “Sebastian makes enough to afford the full rent on his own. I think he’ll stick around until the end of the lease, at least.”

Kurt nods again. They fall into silence, with the exception of Feta’s quiet snores – but it’s not uncomfortable, the way Blaine expected it would be.

“Have you seen him?” Kurt asks in a whisper. “Sebastian.”

Blaine shakes his head quickly, choosing his words carefully before he replies. “We haven’t seen each other since we ended things.” He trails off for a moment, sighing before continuing. “I’ll have to see him again to grab the rest of my stuff and then… that’s it.”

He wants to say more – all of the things he should’ve said in Lima instead of that stupid kiss. But he keeps his calm, and starts with the most important thing he’s wanted to say since that morning.

“I’m sorry,” he says, waiting until Kurt looks up at him to continue. “I’m sorry about Lima, and I’m sorry about shouting at you, and about everything that’s happened over the past few months and I… I’m sorry, Kurt. For everything.” He doesn’t cry. But it takes everything in him not to. He just wants everything to be okay – he just wants his best friend back.

“I’m sorry, too,” Kurt replies, throwing Blaine for a loop.

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“A lot,” Kurt answers almost immediately. “For yelling at you in Lima. For… well, everything at the engagement party.” He pauses, shifting uncomfortably as he takes in a deep breath before continuing. “For that night. After you told me about the proposal.”

“Oh,” is all Blaine can muster as a reply. He hasn’t thought about that night in months. He tries not to. Every time he does, it feels like those scars are being torn at their seams, waiting to burst if he pulls too hard. “It’s okay,” he says lamely. He’s already made his peace with Kurt’s decision. He doesn’t forgive him – Kurt doesn’t need to be forgiven for making that kind of decision, even if it had hurt him in the process.

“It’s not okay,” Kurt presses, turning to face Blaine, reaching his hand out to him but hesitating halfway, letting his hand fall limply onto the couch. Blaine reaches out and takes it without a second thought, heart swelling at the familiar press of Kurt’s hand in his. “I shouldn’t have left like that, but I… I was just so afraid of… of exactly what happened,” he confesses, hand clenching almost painfully in Blaine’s.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine says again, but Kurt shakes his head, sniffling as he wipes at his eyes with his free hand.

“Please don’t apologize,” he pleads, Blaine nodding and biting back the instinct to apologize for apologizing. Kurt takes his time before speaking again, taking several deep breaths and letting his eyes slide closed, not bothering to wipe away the few tears that glide down his cheek.

“Adam left,” he says, seconds before Blaine goes to wipe away his tears.

It feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room. Blaine forgets how to breathe, gasping like a fish as he tells his brain not to assume that this means what he wants it to mean. It _can’t_ mean that – Kurt had said that he and Adam were fine less than two months ago. What could’ve changed between them that quickly? And besides, Adam leaving doesn’t necessarily mean that their relationship is over. Blaine doesn't know the details of Adam’s citizenship, but it’s possible he had to head back to the UK for the time being.

“Is he coming back?” he asks with genuine confusion.

Kurt snorts, which isn’t the reaction Blaine expected, but certainly isn’t unwelcome. “No, he’s definitely not coming back. He’s made that _very_ clear,” he replies with the same sarcastic dark humor that Blaine has always loved, even when it intimidates him.

Blaine doesn’t want to ask what happened – he’d be perfectly content with never knowing. But Kurt tells him anyway.

“He said he didn’t want to be with me if he was going to be my second choice.”

Blaine nods slowly, still not wanting to let himself assume anything, running his thumb along Kurt’s hand. His heart is racing the same way it did before he told Kurt about the proposal – he doesn’t let himself indulge in that excited flutter of hope.

“I guess I know how that feels. To think that you’re somebody’s second choice…” Kurt’s voice cracks as he opens his eyes again, pulling his hand back so he can wipe at his cheeks, his eyes red rimmed but still as beautiful as they’ve always been.

Blaine wants to wrap him up and hold him and kiss him. But he keeps things simple, and says the thing he’s wanted to say for years.

“You were my first choice then – when I told you about the proposal, god even before that. Years before that. And you’re still my first choice now. You’re always going to be my first choice.”

He doesn’t say that there is no question of choices, first, second, or otherwise, when it comes to Kurt. Kurt is _everything._

“You’ve been my first choice since the day I met you,” Kurt replies – and it’s the greatest thing Blaine has ever heard.

“Really?” he asks breathlessly, still unable to believe that this is all actually happening.

“Yeah,” Kurt whispers, shifting in closer to Blaine, looping their hands together again like it’s second nature.

He leans forward, and Blaine does too – but he hesitates. Things are different this time, but he still doesn’t want to push the way he did in Lima. He wants to give Kurt the space and time to take the lead.

“I loved Adam,” he whispers, breath warm against Blaine’s lips. “I _still_ love him. I think it’s going to take some time before I can put what we had to rest. I want… _this_ , but I don’t want to do it when I know I’m still in love with someone else.”

Blaine nods, pulling back and taking both of Kurt’s hands in his, squeezing them reassuringly. “I can wait.” He’s already waited eight years. What’s a little bit longer?

Kurt gives him a shaky smile before he lets Blaine pull him in for a hug. It feels like coming home, the scent of Kurt, the weight of him under his hand. He hasn’t had Kurt this close in months – he’s going to have a very hard time letting him go.

* * *

“It’s got… character,” Blaine muses once he’s sure the realtor is out of earshot.

“It’s got mold,” Kurt replies, wrinkling his nose as he takes in the questionable black tendrils snaked across the wall in the kitchen.

“Yeah, that might be a problem,” he says weakly. He’s not sure he has much of a choice though – he’d hesitated long enough on the other apartments he’d seen that they’ve all been snatched off the market by now. He hardly has a handful of options left if he still wants to find himself a new place by the end of the month.

“You know you don’t have to commit anything you’re not ready to commit to,” Kurt reminds – which feels strangely ironic, given their history.

Blaine shrugs, running a finger along the kitchen counter, frowning as he pulls it back quickly, now lined with dust. “I don’t exactly have the luxury of choice here.”

“Why don’t you offer to pay some of the rent at Sam’s place in exchange for staying a little longer?” Kurt offers, settling against the one patch of wall that doesn’t look suspicious.

“It seems silly to pay rent to crash on someone’s couch when I could just pay for a regular apartment.”

Kurt nods, humming quietly before speaking up again. “You could stay with me,” he proposes, his voice quiet.

Blaine stills, the hand that was reaching for one of the over the sink cabinets dropping with a thunk. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Kurt replies, more sure this time. “It’s not like we’ve never lived together before,” he adds with a nervous laugh.

“Yeah,” Blaine replies, eyes wide and filled with a mix of shock and wonder.

* * *

“Do you think they get together in the end?” Kurt asks jokingly about twenty minutes into the movie, yawning as he stretches himself along the couch.

“I think they just might,” Blaine teases, readjusting the pillow on his lap so Kurt can rest his head. His hand falls to Kurt's shoulder, thumb running up and down the curve of it slowly.

“Good, because I don’t think I can stay awake until the end,” Kurt mumbles, fidgeting a bit until he’s sure he’s comfortable, letting his eyes slide closed.

Blaine smiles, watching as Kurt slowly drifts off to sleep. The living room is bathed in darkness, but he can still make out a few things from the dim glow of the TV – the perfect slope of Kurt’s nose, the curve of his slightly parted lips. When he looks away for just a moment, he catches sight of Hepburn and Feta, curled together on top of Feta’s newest dog bed. Hepburn’s paw rests lazily on top of Feta’s head, both of them fast asleep.

It’s been almost two months since he moved in, but it never stops amazing him that things have worked out so perfectly. Their friends had been wary at first, asking them both if they were sure they wanted to move in together so quickly after everything had happened. But no one pressed when they both insisted that they were sure. Their friends knew well enough that it was the first step on a journey they’ve all been waiting years for Kurt and Blaine to take.

After all of those years of making wrong turns and wrong decisions, the road to Kurt and Blaine finding each other again should’ve been littered with obstacles. But it’s perfect. Every moment spent with Kurt is perfect.

He looks back up at the TV with a smile, settling in for the remaining hour of _When Harry Met Sally_ – everything feels comfortably full circle.

* * *

_Saw this pigeon on my way to work today and it made me think of you :P_

_You are SUCH a dork_

_The good kind of dork? :D_

_The best kind._

* * *

Kurt wakes him up early with a pillow to the face, teasing him for sleeping past three alarms already. He grumbles and complains, but kicks himself into gear once he realizes that they have to be downtown for brunch with Quinn, Santana, Rachel, and Tina in thirty minutes. Rachel rakes them over the coals when they arrive ten minutes late, prattling on about almost losing their reservation before Santana pays her $10 to stop talking and order something.

They haven’t been able to get together since the holidays – well, moreso since the engagement party fiasco. They spend nearly two hours catching up and laughing and drinking as many mimosas as they can before their bottomless timer runs out.

Blaine knows they should probably head straight back home as they stumble out of the restaurant, hugging the girls goodbye and giving sloppy kisses on cheeks as they promise to do this again very soon. But Kurt tugs him in the opposite direction, towards Central Park.

“Let’s walk around for a bit,” he suggests, practically tripping over himself as he tugs harder on Blaine’s hand.

“Promise you won’t get yourself hurt?” he teases with a smirk.

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Promise.” He links his pinky through Blaine’s for good measure.

The walk is a good idea – it gives them time to sober up a bit before returning to the madness of the subway. It’s finally warm enough that they can walk for as long as they want without the fear of a lingering winter chill nipping at their skin. They’re free to loop their arms together and stroll casually down any winding road they choose. Blaine hardly ever sees Kurt on the weekends, with his show schedule and all. It’s exciting, getting to spend an entire afternoon with him without any obligations. It feels like the hundreds of carefree weekend afternoons they spent together before they threw themselves into adulthood, and into relationships with other people.

Kurt stops in his tracks – pointing out a large oak tree on their left. “Isn’t that where we’d always go for our picnics?” he asks, though Blaine’s confident he knows that the answer is yes.

“Looks like it,” he replies coyly.

Kurt had been very careful in selecting their go-to picnic spot their freshman year. It had to have adequate shade, so he wouldn’t have to worry about sunburn or – godforbid – freckles. It had to be far away enough from an entrance that it wouldn’t be an obvious choice to other picnicers. It had to have an at least tolerable view. And it had to be far away enough from the street to provide solace from the endless hum of car horns and sirens and pedestrians chatting away.

“This really is the perfect spot,” Kurt muses as he sits down at the base of the tree, too tipsy to care about preserving the integrity of his dark wash jeans.

“Your hard work paid off,” Blaine praises as he settles down carefully beside him.

They sit in comfortable silence as they take in their surroundings, appreciating that rare kind of silence that seems impossible to find in a city like New York. Blaine doesn’t even realize his fingers are laced with Kurt’s until they’re pulled into Kurt’s lap – holding Kurt’s hand feels like second nature now. He turns to Kurt with a lazy smile, his smile faltering for a moment as he takes in this new, strange look in Kurt’s eyes.

“What if I said I wanted to kiss you right now?”

If he weren’t already sitting down, Blaine’s sure he would’ve collapsed. He’s been so grateful that he has Kurt back in his life, he hasn’t even bothered to dwell on the fact that he’s still waiting for Kurt to fall out of love with Adam. Having Kurt at all has been enough for him, but knowing he has Kurt wholly, completely – makes him feel like he’s soaring.

“I’d say you should.”

So, he does.

* * *

Blaine finally blinks his eyes open when the sunlight streaming through the blinds becomes impossible to ignore, warming his sweat-damp skin. He stretches his aching joints, his body still the best kind of sore. He rolls over happily, reaching out to the opposite side of the bed to pull Kurt in – but his side of the bed has grown cold. Blaine sits up as quickly as he can, his body still weighed down by exhaustion. He flashes back to a morning just like this one – a morning where he’d woken up bursting with excitement, only to find disappointment in the form of Kurt’s absence.

“Kurt?” he croaks out, voice thick from sleep.

His heart pounds when there’s no response. He can’t let himself believe this is happening again, things are different this time. He knows they are. He stumbles out of bed, quickly throwing on a pair of pajama pants before scrambling out of the bedroom nook. He breathes a sigh of relief when he catches sight of Kurt in the kitchen, singing along quietly to whatever’s playing through his earbuds. Blaine rushes over to him, wrapping his arms around his waist, burying his nose in the crook of his neck so he can make sure he’s really there.

“Well, good morning to you too,” Kurt greets with a soft laugh, pulling one of his earbuds out. “I was just about to wake you up. Did you want blueberries or chocolate chips in your pancakes?”

Blaine doesn’t reply, just turns Kurt in his arms and cups his jaw before crashing their lips together. “I love you,” he whispers when they pull apart, running his thumb along the curve of Kurt’s lower lip.

“I love you too,” he replies quickly, easily, without a shadow of doubt.

* * *

_** September 2022 ** _

It’s incredible how little NYADA has changed since Kurt and Blaine were students. It feels like they’re transported back in time the moment they step onto the campus. There are still acapella groups and dance troupes and performance artists around every corner. It’s only three days into the semester, and cliques are already huddled together on benches and building steps exchanging the latest gossip.

Kurt’s visited the campus a handful of times since he graduated. He’s attended a few alumni events – he even spoke at a panel sponsored by the Musical Theatre Department last year. He typically sticks to the usual public spaces – the student center, the library, the lecture building – but this time he’s not on campus for business, just to reminisce. In the spirit of nostalgia, he lets Blaine convince him to switch it up a little. They manage to sneak into their freshmen dorm hall by waiting at the entrance until someone exits the building, giggling as they dart for the door before it closes.

They climb up to the third floor, gazing at each other whimsically as they walk through the hallway where they’d met, hand in hand. He lets Blaine press him against the wall beside his old room, smirking as he scans the hall to ensure that they’re alone.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Blaine says before placing a kiss to Kurt’s nose. “Everywhere.” A kiss on the cheek. “I wanted to.” A kiss on the jaw. “But never had the courage to.”

Kurt decides to follow Blaine’s lead, hooking an arm around his neck and pulling him in for a proper kiss. This hall was always a place for him, too.

* * *

It’s a very sweet plan in theory – but in practice, it would take days for Blaine to kiss Kurt in every place he’s ever wanted to kiss him. They’d have to travel the entire length of Manhattan and back – visit rooftops and apartment basements and beaches and parks and ride every subway line imaginable. He settles for all the places they can get to that won’t involve breaking and entering or hours of travel to get to – the student center, a practice room, the lounge in the basement of their dorm building. He even manages to convince Kurt to head down to the East Village without even telling him that this is the most significant location of all.

They walk and talk as they exchange bites of a slice of Artichoke pizza, settling down on a bench in Union Square to finish off their last few bites. Astonishingly enough, it’s the very same bench they’d sat on that afternoon after they’d finished their first ever set of midterms. Blaine’s sure of it – the same frayed “LOVE WILL ALWAYS WIN” sticker is plastered to the wood of the seat.

“What made you want to go to Artichoke so badly?” Kurt asks as he takes a bite of the crust, wiping crumbs off of the lapel of his jacket.

Blaine shrugs with forced nonchalance. “Do I ever need a reason for wanting Artichoke pizza?”

“Good point,” Kurt says, nodding in agreement as he hands the plate back to Blaine.

Blaine sets the plate aside, going over what he wants to say one last time before he reaches out to take Kurt’s hand.

“Do you remember the last time we did this?”

“Ate pizza on a bench? I don’t know – last week?” Kurt replies sarcastically.

Blaine laughs quietly, shaking his head. “I was thinking something more specific,” he begins, heart beating rapidly as he clears his throat. “The last time we were here, you asked me if I thought you should say yes to going out with Chandler.”

“Oh...” Kurt says dryly, unsure as to why Blaine’s decided to bring Chandler, of all people up, today, of all days.

“I said that you should do it, because I was scared of asking you to be with me instead.”

Kurt nods slowly, still not following Blaine’s train of thought.

“I’ve thought about that day a lot. About what I should’ve done, and what would’ve happened if I’d just had the courage to say what my heart wanted me to say instead. I don’t regret any parts of our story... but I’m hoping I can get this part right on the first try...”

He trails off as he releases Kurt’s hand, reaching into the pocket of his coat and pulling out the ring box he’s been carrying around all day. Kurt’s eyes go wide as saucers as he finally puts it all together, gasping as his boyfriend slides down to one knee in front of him.

“Kurt Hummel, I met you ten years ago today. I’ve loved you every second of those ten years, and I don’t think there will ever be enough time for me to tell you how much I love you. But I’m hoping you’ll give me the chance to spend the rest of my life trying to do just that.”

He opens the box, a chill running through him as the platinum band glimmers in the sun, shining as bright as Kurt has since the moment he met him.

“You’ve already done me the honor of being my best friend – but I’m hoping now you’ll do me the honor of being my husband.”

Kurt is at a loss for words, tears streaming freely down his cheeks as he smiles wider than he has in his life. He fans himself as he struggles to catch his breath, laughing at his own hysterics as he wipes at the corners of his eyes. His heart is so full, it feels like it could burst – he didn’t think it was possible to love Blaine more than he already did. But even after all these years, Blaine still manages to surprise him.

Kurt doesn't give Blaine his answer just yet, though they both know there’s no world in which Kurt says no to forever with Blaine. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out the ring box that he’s carried with him everywhere he goes for the past several weeks, waiting for the perfect moment.

Blaine’s jaw drops, his hands falling to his side as Kurt opens his own box, revealing the ring he’d started designing for Blaine just two months after he’d moved in.

“Only if you’ll let me do the same.”

It’s not the grand proposal they’d envisioned for themselves when they were lovestruck teens. Rose petals don’t fall from the sky, a band doesn’t strike up an age-old love song, they don’t float into the air as they finally kiss one another with every bit of love they have to give.

But it’s perfect – because they finally have what they’ve always wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last time, thank you SO much for reading! I'm very sad that this journey has come to a close, but I have quite a few stories left to tell! I've started up a new, much lighter [WIP](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25698997/chapters/62397805), that'll be updating somewhat quickly while I finish outlining/getting a head start on my next major multi-chapter endeavor!
> 
> And one last shameless plug while I have you here: I'm nominated for best new author in the [Klaine Fanfic Awards](https://klaineccfanficlibrary.tumblr.com/post/624735052056641536/klaine-and-cc-fanfic-awards-vote-for-your#notas) on Tumblr - which is an insanely exciting honor and privilege! My other fic, [One More Day is Not Enough](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17697464/chapters/41746223) is also nominated for Best New Fic as well as Best Cheerios!Klaine. If you happen to enjoy my work, I'd so greatly appreciate your vote! I'm amongst some wonderful company that I'd strongly encourage you to check out as well! :)
> 
> xoxoxoxoxo EJ


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